Unchained Melody
by otto-tis-eratai
Summary: Set four years after Moving On. Lisa Cuddy is ready to take back her old job at PPTH, but she will soon find out that not everything is how she left it. Huddy.
1. Survivor

_Hi everyone!_

_So, this is my attempt at a post-Moving On story. I started watching House on Netflix during the Christmas holidays, and I've shipped Huddy since the very first episode... so imagine my surprise and disappointment when I found out how it ended! After reading a lot of fanfiction in these months, I finally decided to write my own, which is unusual for me (the last fanfiction I wrote was 9 years ago). It's just that I'm usually happy with the canon of a tv series, and I don't like messing with it even at its darkest moments, but with Huddy there's just no closure! So yeah, I developed this post-s7 headcanon and decided to turn it into a real story. _

_Season 8 happened but is partially ignored (maybe because I still haven't watched it and I'm not sure I plan to do it, I just read something), the biggest change I made is Wilson: in my story, he did have cancer but he decided to treat it, and he survived. This also mean House never faked his death. That's why I call it a post-s7 and not a post-s8. _

_The plot is already planned out in my head, details included, and a part of it is already written. It starts kind of angsty, but then it gets better. Also, Wilson is going to have a big role in the first chapters (that's why I needed him alive), and Rachel will be important too later on._

_One last thing: English is not my first language, so you may spot some mistakes. _

_Well, I think I've said enough... I'll leave you with the prologue/first chapter. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Unchained Melody**

**I. Survivor**

It was a dark Friday evening, the cold January breeze smelled a little like snow. It had been snowing the whole afternoon.

Lisa Cuddy was standing there, right in front of the main entrance of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, the place that for so many years had been her second home. It had been more than four years since she was last there, but somehow it felt like yesterday.

She folded her arms, shuddering, although she wasn't sure if it was because of the cold, or because of the memories.

She remember the last day she was here, the day her life radically changed, the day she was forced to give up everything she had built and start a new life elsewhere.

After handing in her resignation, she accepted a job as endocrinologist at Pittsburgh Mercy. She didn't want to go that far - from her family, her friends, from her old life - and to be honest she wasn't really happy about the job either, but she had a three-year-old daughter, a house to rebuild, a new one to rent or possibly buy, and being unemployed was really not an option, so she had to accept the offer. Plus, the board had told her their current Dean of Medicine was going to retire soon, and that she would definitely be considered for the job. Well, he _did_ retire about a year later, and she _was_ considered for the position, but eventually they chose someone else. She was made Head of Endocrinology instead.

She briefly considered quitting and looking for a job elsewhere, but then she decided against it. The last thing she wanted was to put her daughter (and herself) through that stress again, so she accepted that this was going to be her life from then on.

It didn't feel like home, though. She missed her old job. Not that she didn't like being a full-time doctor again, that was her passion after all, but she really missed the old routine, the administration, _the power_. She missed the power a lot. Sometimes she found herself thinking at all the things she worked so hard for, and had to leave behind, but she knew she had to be strong and move on.

Truth is, starting a whole new life at 43 was not that easy. But she did it anyway. She had to.

With time she got used to it, the new routine. She made new friends, started dating, even joined a new yoga class. Slowly, she readjusted.

One day, she woke up in the morning with a smile. For the first time in years, that morning she finally thought that everything could actually fall into place, that she could truly be happy again. She was _really_ moving on.

Then- oh, the twist of fate! -two days later, she received _that_ call. It was a sunny hot mid-summer afternoon. She was in her office, filling in some paperwork while she waited for her next patient, when her phone rang. She picked up.

"Dr. Cuddy", she said.

"Lisa Cuddy? Hi. It's Eric Foreman".

He didn't bother with small talk, and went straight to the point. He was offered the job of Head Administrator at the St. Catherine Hospital in San Francisco, a much bigger and important hospital than PPTH, so he was going to leave his current job at the end of the year. Meaning, the position of Dean of Medicine at PPTH was going to be vacant soon, and apparently the board had mentioned Cuddy's name.

"I thought you wanted to know", Foreman had said before hanging up.

Even though she waited a week before submitting her application, she had made the decision the moment she hung up the phone. It was impulsive, and maybe she should have thought more carefully about it, but she couldn't lie to herself, the idea of having her old job back and move closer again to her family made her happier than she thought it was possible.

Predictably, she was hired. The official announcement was made in mid- September, although she would only take over at the beginning of the new year.

And there she was. She had spent the Holidays packing everything with Rachel, who was excited for the new school and happy to be living close to her grandma again. She didn't like the idea of leaving her best friend, Michelle, but they had promised to be pen pals, so in her mind everything was going to be great.

Cuddy and her daughter left Pittsburgh that morning. She had arranged for Rachel to stay with Julia for the weekend, then she had planned to go home, maybe order some Chinese takeaway for dinner, and then try to get some sleep on the couch, which was the only piece of furniture currently present, or maybe get a hotel room somewhere. Then, she would have the following two days to take care of everything.

Instead, she found herself driving to the hospital.

It was cold and it was a Friday evening, and no one was around. There was just her, standing in front of the main entrance.

Only a month ago, her life in Princeton felt like a memory in the distant past. Right now, it felt like the four years she spent in Pittsburgh were only a dream, a small parenthesis.

_Four years_, she thought.

"So, look who is back" a male voice suddenly spoke from behind her.

Cuddy smiled.

"How did you even know I was here?!" she said, turning around. Her gaze met a pair of familiar dark brown eyes.

"I think I just know you that well… and I thought you could use a friend" James Wilson replied, smiling back.

They met each other in a warm hug.

They were always friends, even _before_, but they had gotten closer during the last years. They talked a lot right after the crash, supported each other. Then there was his disease. Even though she never visited him, she called him almost every night, just to check how he was, and after he was declared in remission, he took a plane and visited her for a couple of days. They had fun. Rachel adored him, she called him "Uncle Jim". They kept in touch after that. Now they called each other about once a week, sometimes on the phone, sometimes on Skype. Usually, especially in the last year or so, Rachel insisted a lot on Skyping with him. She would show him her drawings, or her missing teeth, or what she learned at school. Then she discovered the marvels of technology, in particular all the online games that allowed two players, so now that was her favorite activity during the weekly Skype calls with him. And this, if you asked Cuddy, was a win-win situation: her daughter was having fun with her friend, and she could finally take some time for herself and do something she enjoyed, like a hot bath or a good book. Wilson never complained. In fact, he truly seemed to enjoy playing online mini golf with her seven-year-old.

"Thanks", she whispered, before pulling away from the hug and returning to face the hospital.

They stood there in silence for almost a minute, before he spoke.

"So… Did you already have dinner?" he asked.

"Not yet" she simply replied, turning to look at him.

"There's a new Greek restaurant in town, I've heard it's nice. Do you want to try it?"

"Sounds good!" she said. "I just… need another couple of minutes"

They fell silent again, but it was not an embarrassing silence, it was more an understanding one. During the last few years, they had found out they were the kind of friends who could spend time together without saying a word and still enjoy each other's company.

After a while, he broke the silence again. There was this thing he really wanted to ask her, but never did before, because it was the kind of topic that he liked to discuss in person.

"There's something I need to ask you" he started tentatively.

As soon as he had her attention, he dropped the bomb.

"What are you planning to do with him?"

Cuddy took a deep breath.

There it was, the giant elephant in the room she was trying so hard to ignore. Him, Gregory House, the man behind all this, the man who ruined her life.

After she moved to Pittsburgh, she kept having conflicting dreams about him. In some of them he was violent and hurt her, in some he apologized, and in some other ones they were still together. The thought of him wouldn't let her alone during the day either. She happened to see someone who looked like him on the street (and it was never him), or think she was hearing his voice (and she wasn't). She wanted him to suffer and at the same time she wondered if he would ever try to contact her again.

She eventually decided that, in order to move on, she needed some help, so she went to therapy. Weekly sessions, every Monday evening, that went on for almost a year. At the end, she came to an important conclusion: what he had done to her was not her fault. For weeks she had thought "what if I had done something different", but the truth was that he was a dangerous drug addict, and it was just a matter of time before he did something completely reckless. The only thing she blamed herself for, was not being able to see that sooner.

She had fallen in love with him, and that had been the problem. She enabled him even when she shouldn't have. She allowed him to hurt her. That was her only fault.

After this realization, she found a sort of peace within herself. The anger she felt slowly faded away. She started dreaming less about him during the night, and thinking less about him during the day. Less and less. Eventually she stopped. She stopped talking about him to her friends, even to Wilson. She finally closed that door forever. She never forgave him, she couldn't even think about it, you don't forgive people who tried to kill you and your family, but she felt a sense of closure. House was dead to her.

When she told everyone that she was going to move back to Princeton, they all asked about him again, but the point was that her decision to come back had nothing to do with him. She wanted her old life back, and if having to deal with him randomly was the price to pay, then she would pay it. It didn't matter. Even if they shared the same workplace, it didn't mean anything to her. _He_ didn't mean anything to her.

"I mean… are you going to fire him?"

Wilson's question brought her back to reality. Cuddy looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes.

"If you fire him, he won't be able to find another job. Ever." he added.

She gave him a tiny smile. This was the first conversation they had about House in ages. She never asked about him, never felt the need to. He himself never mentioned his friend, maybe just to say that they had dinner together or played poker together, but never to talk about him. Weirdly enough, Wilson was the only person that didn't mention him even when she had told him she was moving back. He had just said how happy he was to have her around again.

"I am not going to fire him as a first thing on Monday, but I can't be as indulgent as I used to be." she finally answered. To be honest, she had briefly thought about firing him, just as a personal revenge, ruin his life as he had ruined hers. But then she thought again. She was better than that. But she _would_ fire him if that was what he deserved.

"I understand" Wilson said. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No, it's fine. I will talk to him as soon as I have time"

That was her plan. Formally talk to him, set some ground rules, just for the sake of the hospital. She would talk, he would shut up and listen. He was dead to her anyway.

"So, what about that Greek restaurant?"


	2. Hide and Seek (pt1)

_I would really like to thank all of you for your interest in my story, in particular those of you who took three minutes of their time to leave a review! It meant so much to me! _

_I'll now leave you with the first part of the second chapter. Enjoy :)_

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**II. Hide and Seek (pt.1)**

House was sitting at his desk, playing online solitaire, when suddenly he heard the distinctive sound of heels clicking on the floor of the hallway. His heart skipped a beat. He hadn't heard this sound in a very long time.

Could this really be _her_? He knew this was her first day back at PPTH, but he hadn't actually expected a visit so soon.

The steps were approaching fast, the sound becoming louder. But it was not _her_ who appeared at his door. Instead, it was a young girl, with red hair and freckles on her cheeks. If it wasn't for the female suit and heels she was wearing, he would have said she was still in her teenage years.

"Dr. House?" she asked in a professional voice. Usually he would have pointed at one of his fellows, but he was alone right now, so he just nodded. "It's me".

"I'm Greta Jones, Dr. Cuddy's personal assistant." she said with a polite smile, taking a few more steps into his office.

He flinched at the sound of that name. So this really had something to do with _her_.

"She said she would like to meet you in her office in half an hour" the girl added.

He didn't let his emotions show.

"Fine." he replied in a flat tone, "should I bring champagne?"

Jones looked puzzled at his words.

"Uhm… she… she didn't say anything about champagne…"

"I was kidding" he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "just tell her I'll be there"

She nodded and left the room.

As soon as he was alone again, House sighed. So, this was it, the moment he had been waiting for the last four years.

He had played this scene a lot in his head, with different variations, ranging from the one where she punched him in the face to the one where he kissed her against the wall. He had a lot of free time.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her. Apologize, first. Then tell her how much he hated himself for what he had done. How much he missed her, how much he had thought of her. Every day, in fact.

He still thought of her almost every day. He never let that show, though. He never talked about her, never mentioned her. And he never tried to contact her. There was no point after all.

While he was in jail the first time, he thought about writing her a letter. It happened more or less like that: he started writing, wrote about two or three sentences, then threw it away. Then he took another piece of paper, started again, wrote something else, then threw it away again. He did so more times than he would like to admit. Sometimes it was too impersonal, sometimes too pathetic, sometimes too arrogant. After several attempts, he gave up. She deserved more than that.

The closest he came to contacting her was when he googled her name, during the time Wilson was doing chemo. That was a very dark moment for House, with his best friend facing a life-and-death struggle, and the awareness that if Wilson had lost the battle, he would have been completely alone in the whole world. So he sat at this computer, and typed "Lisa Cuddy MD" on the Google search bar. He found her LikedIn profile, with an recent professional picture of her. It said she was currently working as Head of Endocrinology at Pittsburgh Mercy. He wondered if she was really happy with her new life. The answer came to him almost automatically: _better than with you._ He thought she had probably moved on, so once again, trying to contact her was pointless.

He knew she and Wilson were friends and talked regularly, of course he knew, and he also knew his friend had visited her once while he was in jail for the second time. Still, he never talked about her. After all the pain he had caused her, the least he could do was let her go. And that was what he did.

He still thought about her, dreamed about her, and damned if he didn't love her. But it was all in the past now, a sweet memory, the ghost of the amazing life they could have lived together if he had actually acted like a human being that time (and many other times before). So he tried to move on, in his own way.

Until one day, a few months ago, Wednesday 17th of September to be precise, Foreman called a meeting with all the Department Heads, to announce that his contract was going to terminate on the 7th of January, and that Dr. Lisa Cuddy was going to be the new Dean of Medicine starting January 8th.

It was one of the few times in his life where House couldn't believe his own ears.

That day, everything changed once again. He didn't know why she had decided to come back, if it had something to do with him or not. What he knew was that now he had a chance to see her again, hear her voice again, maybe even have her in his life again, and he was determined to do everything in his power to make this happen.

_Speaking of which_, he thought, glancing down at the clock on his computer. It was almost time to go.

He grabbed his cane and slowly limped into the hallway towards the elevators. His heart was racing. He was planning to reach the clinic and walk straight to her office, but when he found himself in front of it, he suddenly lost all ability to move. Cuddy, _his_ Lisa Cuddy, was there, he could see her through the door. She was sitting at her desk, her eyes wandering from her computer to some papers. He stood there, paralyzed, taking a few seconds to just observe her without her noticing. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked a bit thinner, and her hair was longer and curlier, but to him she couldn't look better. He took a deep breath before knocking. As soon as she answered, "Yes?", he stepped in.

It felt surreal. She was really there, standing behind her desk, looking at him.

"Good afternoon, Dr. House" she said. Her voice was cold, completely emotionless, and so were her eyes.

He tried to cover up his own emotions, pretending her voice didn't actually send a shiver down his spine, pretending he wasn't excited to see her, pretending this was the most normal thing in the world. Pretending nothing happened.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Cuddy!" he said cheerfully, "Welcome back! If we had arranged this meeting earlier, I would have baked…"

His voice died in his throat, when, as he limped towards her, he noticed they were not the only two people in the room. A security guard was standing on the right side of the room, close to the wall.

He looked at her again, slightly shocked this time. Her face, instead, hadn't changed at all.

"You may be wondering why I asked to see you" she said.

He remained silent.

"Well, as you know our situation is peculiar, so I would like to set a few ground rules just to avoid making our working life a living hell" she explained formally.

"First of all, from now on you will come to work on time every single morning, and won't leave before the end of your shift" she continued, without waiting for his response, "second, you will do all the clinic hours that are assigned to you, and you will wear your lab coat like everyone else"

He wanted to say something, but he sensed she was not done yet.

"Third, our interactions will be drastically reduced. For everything you need, you send one of your fellows, and I will do the same with my assistant. If you ever need to talk to me yourself, it must be work related. You don't harass me with inappropriate comments, you don't try to talk to me about anything personal, you don't try to contact me outside this hospital. Understand?"

He only managed to nod.

"If you break one of this rules, you are fired. You show up more than 5 minutes late? You are fired. You skip one hour of clinic duty? You are fired. You wink at me in the elevator? You are fired. Are we clear?"

She said everything with the same cold impersonal tone, hiding behind her mask of power. He nodded again.

They stood there, staring at each other, for what felt like forever. He wondered if she had learned her little speech by heart, and if her hands were as sweaty as his own.

Right when she was about to ask him to leave, he spoke. He wanted his chance to talk as well.

"Am I allowed to speak now?" he asked.

"No" she cut him off.

He sighed. He was not going to beg her. If she didn't want to listen to him, then he wouldn't speak. Not now, anyway. He was actually prepared for the possibility that she wouldn't let him say anything (it was one of the scenarios he had imagined).

He looked at her one last time. Even in this moment, he couldn't stop thinking how damn beautiful she was. He looked at her right in her eyes, and suddenly it seemed to him that she had dropped the mask for a few seconds. Her expression was not emotionless anymore. He saw anger, pain… sadness?

"Nothing you can say is going to change what you did" she said slowly.

Then the mask was back on.

"Right" he said, looking at his feet, then left her office.

As soon as he was gone, Cuddy collapsed on her chair and gently dismissed the security guard.

She didn't call security because she was afraid of House, as one may think. She wasn't _afraid_, she never was. She called security because she needed House to know how serious she was, that this was not a joke, that she hadn't forgiven him nor she had intention to. Apparently, judging by how he reacted when he saw the guard, it worked.

However, she admitted to herself, seeing him again was not as easy as she expected. He looked older. More lines on his face, way less hair, and what was left of it had turned almost completely gray. And, another thing she noticed while he was walking away, his limp had gotten noticeably worse. He was slower, less coordinated.

Dealing with a memory is one thing, dealing with a person is another. She wondered if she should have given him the chance to speak, just to hear what he had to say.

No, she told herself, she made the right choice. She didn't care if he wanted to apologize. She didn't want his apologies. It was likely anyway that he only wanted to apologize to feel better himself, not for her, because that was just who he was: a selfish bastard. A criminal.

With those thoughts, she felt a small part of the old anger rising again inside her, but she repressed it.

Everything had been good so far. All the people, the nurses, the doctors, were so nice to her. Her office looked almost exactly like she had left it (Wilson took care of it… he said no one should ever have to work in Foreman's office). House was not going to ruin this for her again.

She hoped he really understood what she was saying. With a bit of luck, she wouldn't need to deal with him again for a while now.


	3. Hide and Seek (pt2)

_I think I need to say a few things before leaving you with the second half of the chapter. From the reviews and the private messages I received (thanks to all of you, you are so nice :)), I understood that a lot of you kind of root for House in this, in spite of what he has done, so I think it's better if I make things clear before you start hating me! I am well aware that Cuddy has her faults, but in this precise moment of the story she doesn't realize it, she still thinks she was only a victim. And that's because I personally think that what House did to her was way worse than what she did to him. Having said that, I promise you that throughout the story every issue will be properly addressed. _

_Also, this is a Huddy story, so to those of you who keep hoping House and Cuddy will end up with someone who is not House or Cuddy, I'm afraid you are going to be disappointed._

_Okay, I'm done with the explanations, here is the chapter ;). It may be slightly OOC, depends on how you see it. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Have a nice weekend, and to those of you who celebrate it, happy Easter! :)_

* * *

**II. Hide and Seek (pt.2)**

_She hoped he really understood what she was saying. With a bit of luck, she wouldn't need to deal with him again for a while now._

Unfortunately, it soon became evident that this was not the case.

The following morning, Cuddy arrived at the hospital a few minutes late. The day had not begun in the best way possible. First, she woke up with an headache. Then, on the way to the hospital, she found traffic. And finally, just when she was about to park the car, she realized she left home some important papers, which now needed to be printed and signed all over again.

She quickly greeted the nurses and her PA, and headed straight to her office. She had her first board meeting in less than a couple of hours, and she really _really_ needed to have those documents printed.

However, Cuddy wasn't ready for the surprise that was waiting for her. It was the first thing she saw as she approached her desk: on top of it, there was a red rose, visibly a few days old (stolen from a patient's room?), and a handwritten note.

_Am I allowed to speak now? H_

He hadn't listened to a single word of what she had said to him only twenty-four hours earlier.

But this was the last straw. It was her second day, and House had already crossed the line.

The anger, the hatred, the resentment that she felt for him and that she had carefully bottled up were now exploding inside her. Her heart began racing, her jaw was clenched, she grabbed the rose and the note and stormed out of her office. By the time she reached the fourth floor, she was livid. She had tried talking to him in a civil way, like the professional she was and wanted to be. It didn't work. Now she was going to try a different approach.

She walked straight to his office, only to find Chase there alone.

"Where is he?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"You mean House? I've no idea, he was…"

She didn't even listen to the end of the sentence. If House wasn't there, chances were that he was with Wilson, so she started walking directed to his office, and that's exactly where House was, she could hear his voice through the door.

She opened it violently, and then slammed it loudly behind her once she was in.

Both men, sitting at the desk across from each other, turned around to look at her, but immediately it was clear what was going on.

For a moment, she just stood there staring angrily at House, her eyes flashing, the rose in one hand, the note in the other.

"I guess you found my surprise" he said, standing up, pretending to not notice her mood. That managed to make her even angrier, if possible.

She threw at him both the rose and the note.

"What did I say yesterday?!" she said getting closer to him, pointing one finger at him.

She didn't wait for an answer.

"I told you I didn't want to listen to you, I told you I didn't want you near me, I told you you were only allowed to contact me if it was strictly work related. I thought I was clear. But you decided to break into my office and deliberately ignore my rules, so it seems like I wasn't so clear after all, so I am going to say it with different words now: I don't want you in my life anymore. I am not interested in your stupid apologies, or whatever else you have to say. You are _dead_ to me. If I chose to come back here, it was for myself, because I love this job and it's what _I_ want to do."

She said everything in one breath, and now she was panting, her cheeks burning, her heart beating so loudly that she could hear it in her ears.

She looked up to meet his eyes, they were only a few inches away from hers. Once again he was staring at her speechless. Rarely had he seen her so angry.

At that point, she could have left. She could just have turned around and left. But she didn't. Because right now, it was not about ranting anymore. It was not about 'a different approach'. Right now, she wanted to hurt him, just as he had hurt her.

"I hate you, you know" she said emotionlessly, taking a few steps back and trying to regain some composure, "I regret the day I met you, and I regret the day I hired you, and I regret the day I decided I wanted to be with you, and dumping you was the best decision I have ever made. You don't deserve anything, House. Not love, not happiness, not anything. You don't have a heart, you don't have a conscience, and I deeply hate you."

Her words were pure venom. She was so furious that she was shaking, and she was unable to calm down, so she started saying the only thing that she knew would make him even worse than her words.

"And you know what, you are…"

She was going to say _fired_. She was really going to say it. But she made the stupid mistake of glancing quickly at Wilson, who silently witnessed the whole scene, and that final word just didn't come anymore.

He was sitting on his chair, staring at the floor, one hand above his eyes, as to pretend he wasn't really there. He too knew what she was going to say, and the moment he didn't hear the word coming he glanced up and met her eyes.

Cuddy felt a lump in her throat. _She was hurting him_. Sometimes she forgot the special bond that connected House to Wilson, and this was one of those times. All the awful things she had said to House, got to Wilson too. And if she fired House, Wilson would be devastated too. And she was not going to do that to her friend.

So she swallowed hard, and turned to leave, as the realization of what she had said sunk down on her.

"Say it", she heard House's voice say from behind her.

She turned once again, and looked at him right in the eyes. The funny thing was that she had been looking at him the whole time, but never really saw him. Now she did. He was clearly, deeply hurt.

"Say it" she heard him repeat, "I know what you were going to say. Just say it"

She bit her lip. She couldn't say what she wanted, so she settled for something else.

"You are the monster that ruined my life" she eventually stated.

And at that point, she really left, leaving the two men alone.

For a while, none of them spoke.

House felt like a piece of his heart was missing again.

_I regret the day I met you. You don't deserve anything. I hate you. _

Cuddy's words kept running through his head like a broken record. He wished he could say that he was shocked, that he hadn't seen this coming. But he had. A part of him knew she felt like this. Sometimes, he felt like this about himself too. He kind of deserved it, after all. He had hurt her too much, for too long.

However, he couldn't help wondering if she really meant every single thing she said. If she had ever cared about him at all. Of course she hated him, but did she really regret everything they shared together? All the nice moments they had spent together, as friends and as lovers, all the times they had made love, all those sweet memories House had cherished for all this time, did she regret everything?

He shook his head. It didn't matter.

There were many things he had wanted to say to her, so many things. He never expected her to forgive him. He didn't even want her to react, or say anything at all, all he had asked for was a chance to talk to her, to apologize, to explain. Maybe he hadn't chosen the best way or the best moment, but he had figured those probably would never come. And a man's gotta try, right? Plus, he would have never expected such a reaction. He thought she would have just ignored him.

But it was no big loss, he thought. He would just go back to a life without Lisa Cuddy, the kind of life he had lived up to a few weeks earlier. No big deal.

He just wished it wouldn't hurt so much.

"What… what just happened? What did you do?" Wilson asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

House shrugged.

"I tried to get her to talk to me, didn't end well. I had 50% of chances she would actually agree to talk to me, and another 50% she wouldn't. I guess the second one won. Bad luck" he explained briefly, still staring at the spot where she had been standing earlier.

"House that was not bad luck, she was livid! She was going to fire you! And the things she said…"

"I heard what she said" House interrupted him. He really didn't want to talk about this. "Coffee?"

"No. No coffee. Look, do you want me to talk to her? I could at least tell her that…"

"No!" House snapped at his friend, starting to lose his temper, "You keep your mouth shut! She was very clear about this, she doesn't want anything to do with me"

"All right, all right" Wilson said, raising his hands as a sign of surrender , "maybe you could just…"

But House didn't want to listen to him. He knew Wilson was worried, he always had this annoying way of caring, but the last thing he wanted was being psychoanalyzed right now. So he didn't listen to the end of the sentence, and started walking towards the hallway.

"Page me when you want coffee" he said, right before shutting Wilson's office door behind him.

In the meantime, Cuddy had reached her office again. She leaned against the closed door and let out a few tears.

What had she said? Was that really her? Was she really going to fire him?

She mentally kicked her own ass for that, she couldn't fire House. First, _she was better than that_, she reminded herself. Second, firing him would destroy Wilson. Third, what impression would the board have of her, if she fired an employee purely for personal reasons? What if they ended up thinking that hiring her again was a mistake? She couldn't let that happen. She had to be stronger, more rational.

She played the whole scene in her mind again, all the things that happened from the moment she found the rose. House and her had said a lot of awful things to each other during the years, but this one time she felt she had really crossed a line.

One day, during her therapy sessions in Pittsburgh, her therapist had asked her to say aloud all the things she would have liked to tell House, and they were more or less those exact words. She didn't think she was ever going to say them to him, though. That was just not her, she didn't hurt people like that. A sense of guilt started creeping inside her.

She closed her eyes for a moment. All of the terrible memories from the day of the incident started running across her mind. She remembered having a good day, with Julia, her husband, and that guy (what was his name? Josh? Jerry?). He was nice. She remembered thinking that she would have liked to see him again. Then, she remembered the loud crash noise coming from her living room. She remembered seeing a too well-known car parked there, and her first instinct was to reach for her daughter, although she wasn't even there. She remembered seeing House getting out of the car and walking towards her, and her irrational fear that he could have a gun, or a knife, that he could hurt her. She remembered the look in his eyes while he gave her the hairbrush back. She remembered seeing there not even the smallest trace of regret. Then, while she just stood there, her hairbrush in her shaking hand, she remembered hearing what he said to Wilson: _I feel much better._

She opened her eyes again. No. No way she was feeling guilty. That man had tried to kill her, he deserved every single word. Plus, the rose? It had clearly been a challenge.

She dried her tears with the back of her hand. Maybe, what happened today was for the best. Maybe now House had really learned the lesson, and would finally leave her alone.

She went to the bathroom and adjusted her makeup, getting ready for the board meeting.


	4. The Story (pt1)

_Once again, thank you for your interest in my work! I'll leave you now with the first part of the third chapter (I decided to split it in two as I did with the last one, you'll guess why). We reached the first turning point of the story, and I'm pretty sure not all of you will like it, but I hope you trust the journey anyway. As I said in the last update, we still have a long way to go. Well... enjoy! :) _

* * *

**III. The Story (pt. 1)**

As weeks passed by, Cuddy realized coming back to Princeton was the best choice she could ever make. She had missed this job so much. Her career always played a big role on her personal happiness, and it seemed like being Dean of Medicine at PPTH could really make her feel fulfilled.

Also, her new house was now fully furnished and all her stuff was finally unpacked. She really liked the final result, it was very cozy and really felt like home. Even her mother complimented her on her house, which was rather unusual.

Rachel was thriving too, in her new school. As every mom, Cuddy initially had a few concerns about the new teachers, the new environment, but her little girl was doing great. She was a very smart kid after all.

On the "House front", no news as well. As she expected, House didn't bother her again after what happened in Wilson's office. He never tried to talk to her again, no handwritten notes, no roses, no emails, no calls. Every time work was involved, he sent a fellow, usually Chase, and she sent her personal assistant. Chase would get Cuddy's approval on risky procedures, and Jones would bring the team new cases.

Moreover, House did his hours of clinic duty every week, wearing his lab coat as she requested, and actually tried to be nice to the patients. At least, that was what she suspected, as she still hadn't received any complaints. He was always punctual, never left early. Everything was going great.

Except for one not-so-little thing.

Just because she didn't interact with House anymore, it didn't mean she couldn't see him: she saw him in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the clinic. Over the weeks, she started noticing something. His way of limping wasn't always the same.

In the first days after she arrived, she remembered thinking how clumsily he was walking. It looked like he couldn't even lean on his bad leg.

Then, one day, about a week after the episode in Wilson's office, she saw him in the cafeteria.

With _crutches_.

She had never seen House with crutches, not since his infarction. She worried, a little bit. It was none of her business and she didn't care, but it was instinct. _Medical instinct_, she told herself. Anyway, the following day he had his cane back again.

After that moment, however, she observed him more closely. Every day or so, she would quickly glance at him while he was doing clinic duty, and it didn't take long for her to figure out that there was something she was missing. Over the following 3-4 weeks, his limp improved a lot. Like, from-crutches-to-almost-no-limp a lot. And that, to Cuddy, could mean only one thing: he was on something.

She checked with the pharmacy, but found the only thing he was taking was ibuprofen, which didn't make any sense. He couldn't be clean from Vicodin and walk so well. There was something else, some drug he was obviously addicted to, and didn't want anyone to know.

The final clue was a Monday in the first days of March when for the first time she saw him without his cane. She couldn't believe her eyes. She was so shocked that she went to his office, while he was in the clinic, just to see if maybe he had forgotten it there. But he hadn't. The cane was nowhere to be found.

House had come to work without it.

That was the sign that she had to talk to him, again. She needed to know what was going on. As the Dean of Medicine, she was responsible for both her doctors and her patients, and if House was on some drug, that appeared to be even stronger than Vicodin, then she had to know.

She briefly considered talking to Wilson first, but she soon came to the conclusion that it would be useless. Whatever House was taking, Wilson was clearly enabling him, so he was not going to tell her anything. Not that she didn't trust Wilson, she did. A lot, actually. She just knew him better: he would protect House at all costs, as he always did.

On Tuesday House came to work with his cane again, but Cuddy had already made up her mind. She had to talk to him. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she just had to.

So, in the afternoon that same day, for the first time in almost two months she sent Jones to his office without a new case.

"So, who is the sick person we are going to heal today?" House asked theatrically, as he saw Cuddy's PA walking into his office.

"No new case" she replied, leaning on the door, "Dr. Cuddy says she wants to see you in her office before you go home later"

"All right" he said, nodding his head slowly, and Jones left.

That was actually unexpected. Cuddy wanted to see him?

He quickly thought about what happened recently, maybe he had done something wrong, something "against the rules" and she wanted to kick his ass again, but he couldn't think of anything. Always punctual. Always done clinic duty, with the stupid white coat always on. Damn, he even tried to be nice to his patients.

As for the other rules, he respected those as well. Lisa Cuddy was back to be a memory, a fantasy which only visited him in his mind, usually at nigh (or while he was in the shower). Of course he would see her around, it's the kind of thing that happens when who people work in the same hospital, but he always tried to avoid her.

To be honest, there had been a couple of occasions where he thought he could randomly tell her something. One time, a piece of paper fell off the pockets of her coat. He was tempted to pick it up and limp after her, but eventually he didn't. He did pick it up, but then he gave it to the nurses.

_I regret the day I met you._

Another time, she saw her having a coffee with Wilson in the cafeteria. He could have joined them, maybe sit next to his friend and try to say something nice. Once again, he didn't.

_You don't deserve anything. _

Then, one last time, recently, he just got a glimpse of her in the conference room and thought she looked even more beautiful than usual. He pondered on the idea of sending her a nice email, a random compliment, but then he rethought it.

_I hate you._

So yeah, she had no reason for wanting to meet him.

Two hours later, House knocked at her office door.

"Come in" Cuddy said.

He slowly walked in, didn't bother to take a seat. Seeing that he wasn't going to sit down, she got up from her chair as well.

"Your redhead said you wanted to see me" he said in a flat tone. He just wanted to know what he did wrong and deal with it.

_He's getting to the point_, she thought, so she decided to do the same.

"I need to know which kind of drug you are taking" she began.

House gave her a puzzled look and she took it as a clue to keep talking.

"I checked with the pharmacy" she continued, "it says you are taking ibuprofen. I need to know what else"

"Well, if the pharmacy says I only take ibuprofen, then I must be also taking something else. Your logic is flawless, Dr. Cuddy" he said in a mocking tone.

She didn't let his reaction influence her. She was expecting something like that.

"I've noticed your way of walking. Less than two month ago you looked like you could barely stand, and yesterday you came to work without your cane. Now, I think that's a good reason to assume you're on something" she explained, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"Well, I am clean. Have been for a while. I just have some very bad days, and some very good days, but I'm not taking anything. Can I go?" he retorted.

Cuddy folded her arms to her chest. She hadn't planned to lose her temper, but it seemed like there was no other choice when House was involved.

"Do you think I was born yesterday? I've known you for thirty years, and I know you are lying, so drop the act and just tell me what is going on" she snapped.

"Why do you even care?! The last time we talked you were pretty clear about how much you don't give a crap about me! What has changed?!"

"This is not about me caring. I am the Dean of Medicine of this hospital, and if one of my doctors is on drugs, then I have the right to know" she replied, somewhat upset, but still trying to maintain some control over herself.

House sighed, thinking of a way out of this uncomfortable discussion.

"Then, as the Dean of Medicine, the only thing you need to know is that what I am taking is not dangerous for the hospital. Can I go?" he said slowly.

"So there is something?" she asked again.

He looked away before nodding his head.

"And what is it? Methadone? A new experimental drug?"

"It is nothing that can harm the patients or put your hospital in jeopardy", he repeated, slowly pronouncing every word, "Ask Wilson if you don't believe me. Can I go?"

"I don't want to ask Wilson, I want you to tell me what it is"

When she saw him lowering his head, defeated, Cuddy thought she was finally getting somewhere.

"I can't tell you" he muttered.

She bit her lip. If he really couldn't tell her, then maybe it was something even worse than what she thought. At this point, letting him go was not an option anymore. She had to know the truth.

"Look" she started saying calmly, "I'm not going to fire you. Just tell me what it is, and I can figure something out. Regulated doses, regular health checks, we have done this before, but I have to know what it is"

House took a deep breath, as he looked at her again.

"You really want to know what it is?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Fine" he said.

Then everything happened in a matter of seconds, but to her it felt in slow motion.

She saw him starting to walk towards her, reaching the other end of the desk. She saw him lifting his bad leg and resting it on one of the chairs right in front of her. She saw him bending over, grabbing the lower end of his pants and pulling it up a few inches.

Then the time stopped.

_Metal_.

There, where is leg was supposed to be, there was only a metal bar. Her mouth fell agape, and for a few seconds she found herself incapable of breathing, moving, staring at anything else but his leg. Or its absence. The room around her started spinning, and she felt the urgent need to sit down.

"Can I go now?"

His voice made her come back to reality. Her mouth was still hanging open when she finally managed to look back at his face. His eyes, instead, were fixed on her desk.

"Wha-what… what happened?" she stammered.

It took a while for him to answer.

"Another infarction" he muttered, his voice barely audible, "Can I go now?"

She nodded, still aghast. After a moment he still hadn't moved, and she realized he wasn't looking at her, so he couldn't have seen her nodding. She pronounced a "Yes" loud enough for him to hear.

As soon as he heard that, he left her office as quickly as he could.


	5. The Story (pt2)

_Once again, I want to thank all of you for your interest! I was glad to read that many of you still trust me on this, and I hope you will continue even after today's update! I'll say something more at the end, you'll see why. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

**III. The Story (pt.2)**

_As soon as he heard that, he left her office as quickly as he could._

Cuddy spent what felt like hours staring wide-eyed at the closed door.

She had expected everything but this. She had expected a cocktail of illegal drugs, or who knows which new experimental therapy, but not this, never this. She was in some kind of shock, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

House had fought so hard for his leg, for so long. Damn, he practically _was_ his leg. He had sacrificed everything for it, again and again, his happiness, his health, his life. And now… it was gone.

She couldn't even think how painful it had to be for him. She imagined him lying on a hospital bed, begging the surgeon to do everything possible to save his leg, living the nightmare of another infarction, and then waking up with a missing limb. She wondered how long it had taken for him to accept the situation, to adjust to it.

She felt even worse with these thoughts. After the crash, sometimes she used to wish for him to suffer, but not like that. She wouldn't wish that to anyone.

With tentative steps, she reached the couch and sat down. She needed to talk to someone.

She took her iPhone out of her pocket, and called the only person who could understand her in this situation, and maybe tell her something more.

As soon as he picked up, she spoke. "James?"

"Lisa? Is everything okay?" Wilson asked, clearly worried. He could hear from her voice that something was wrong: she sounded on the verge of tears.

"I'm fine… are you still in the hospital?" she asked, trying to steady her voice a little bit.

"Actually I'm in the parking lot, why?"

Hearing that, Cuddy considered telling him that it was nothing urgent, they could have talked tomorrow or later on the phone, but her mouth voiced different words.

"Could you… can you come to my office please? Just a couple of minutes. It's important" she asked.

"Coming" Wilson replied, and hung up. About five minutes later, he was there.

She was sitting on the couch, with her arms wrapped around her own body as to hug herself. He was relieved to see she was not crying.

"What happened?" he asked taking a seat next to her.

"House told me" she said, her right hand softly stroking her own left arm up and down, "About his leg"

Wilson didn't mask his surprise. "Oh" he said, leaning against the couch.

They stayed in silence for a moment.

"I am actually surprised he decided to tell you… I had no idea he was planning to…" he told her, a note of confusion in his voice.

"It wasn't his choice… I pressured him" Cuddy explained softly "I had to ask him if he was on drugs, since I noticed how much his limp improved in the last few weeks, and… Well, he showed me he isn't"

She felt a little guilty for assuming the worst about him. As if he could read her thoughts, Wilson put a hand on her shoulder.

"I understand why you would think that" he said with a tiny smile. "But it's just physical therapy. Good old physical therapy. He has been going regularly lately, that's why he improved a lot"

She smiled back.

"You know" he continued, still smiling "after the first few sessions he wanted to quit, because he hadn't improved as quickly as he wanted, so I had to convince him to go back. That idiot. But then he did a good job. Coming here without his cane yesterday was not his best idea, he kept stumbling and losing balance, but I'm happy he's _that_ proud of himself. He… deserves that"

The fondness in Wilson's words sent a shiver down Cuddy's spine. The picture he was describing was heart-warming, even for her.

No matter how much those two men fought or insulted each other, Wilson would always talk about his best friend with the most affectionate words. He would describe him as a good man. Cuddy hadn't thought of House as a good man in years, but in this precise moment she couldn't help it. He could be a good man, he could be sweet, caring.

_He deserves that_, Wilson had said. It was the opposite of what she had told him that day. _You don't deserve anything_.

She did believe in what she had said. That day, those words had been the truth for her. But right now, in her mind, new doubts and questions were arising: _what if I was wrong? What if this House is not the man that drove a car into my living room anymore? What if he's changed?_

She decided she wanted to know more about what happened to his leg.

"When… when did it happen? The infarction, I mean…" she asked.

Suddenly, the smile Wilson still had on his face faded slowly, replaced by a puzzled look.

"…Infarction? …Did he say that?" he asked cautiously.

Cuddy frowned. _Had House lied to her about this?_

"Is it not what happened?" she questioned back, a bit incredulous, a bit upset.

Immediately Wilson removed the puzzled look from his face and forced the smile back.

"No, no… I mean, yes, of course, that's… that's what happened…" he said trying to sound as convincing as possible.

It didn't work. He sounded fake, even to himself.

Cuddy let out a bitter laugh. Right. She had forgotten it: everybody lies. House, once again, had lied to her.

"Then what happened?" she asked eventually.

Wilson looked down. "I can't tell you, I'm sorry"

"What? Why not?"

"I promised him I wouldn't"

Silence fell between them. She should have expected this. Wilson covering up House. He was truly an amazing friend.

"If you are curious, you can ask him" he suggested.

She shrugged.

"It's fine"

After that, they changed topic. Cuddy talked a bit about Rachel, he talked about one of his patients. She kept thinking about House, though. What could have possibly happened that he didn't want her to know? The first thing that came to her mind was that he had played surgeon once again, and things had gone wrong. Or something like that.

As Wilson was leaving, about half an hour later, she did one last attempt.

"You really can't tell me, can you?" she asked.

He smiled. "You really care, don't you?"

Cuddy bit her lip. She didn't _care_, she was just curious. She just wanted to know. Right? However, she decided not to answer.

He didn't insist.

"He's my friend" he simply said.

"I know"

She smiled back at him and waved good bye.

Two days later, when Cuddy arrived at the hospital in the morning, she found a pile of folders on her desk. Cautiously she opened the first one, then the second, and it didn't take long to figure out what they were: all the folders contained different files of patients who had undergone leg amputation in the previous six month at PPTH. They were clearly photocopies, as all the patients' generalities, such as name and age, had been erased. There were probably more than 20 folders on her desk. Next to the pile, she noticed a post-it with a handwritten note.

_You're my friend, too. __ James_

Cuddy smirked, understanding what her friend had done. She had thought about doing that herself, but she had given up even before starting, figuring that House would have probably admitted himself with a false name. This, plus the fact that she had no clue about when the surgery took place, or if he even had it at PPTH, was enough to make her think it was a waste of time.

Now, anyway, she owed Wilson big time. House's file was obviously among those, she just had to find it.

Unfortunately, she didn't have that much free time that day, so she set the pile aside, and picked it back the following day. First, she removed all the women, then all the pediatric patients. Then she had to pause again, since she was paged for an emergency meeting.

At 5 pm, with about half of the folders remaining, she still hadn't found the right one. She couldn't stay at the hospital any longer, though: Friday night was her special mother-daughter night, and she was not going to disappoint her child, so she went home, bringing the files with her, just in case she felt like finishing before going to bed.

Like every Friday, Cuddy baked chocolate cookies with Rachel, and listened to her talking about what happened at school and with her babysitter. With people she didn't know she could be a bit shy, but with her mom she was always chatty. Cuddy never complained. She actually enjoyed listening to her.

Later on, they had dinner, and then finally it was movie-and-previously-baked-cookies night. That time, Rachel picked How To Train Your Dragon.

After the movie was over, they snuggled up in the little girl's bed for story time. Rachel actually didn't like having her mother reading to her, she preferred reading aloud herself. Mom would just lie there with her, stroke her hair gently, and tell her the meaning of the words she didn't already know, and then she would eventually take over the reading, but only when it was really time to sleep.

Cuddy walked out of Rachel's room after making sure she was sound asleep, smiling to herself. She loved that kid more than life itself, and she wished they could spend more time together. Sadly, this was rarely the case, so she cherished every moment she could spend with her daughter and made the most of it.

After pouring herself a glass of wine, Cuddy sat down on her couch and reached for her work bag, pulling out the folders. This was it. House's file was one of those. She hoped it wouldn't take too long to find it, she was getting a bit tired (baking cookies with a seven-year-old was actually a wearing activity), but she was so close to knowing the truth that she couldn't just give up now.

Turns out, House's folder was the fourth one she opened that night. She recognized it immediately. Even without his name or his age, she just had to read through the first lines to realize she had found it.

However, what she read next left her bewildered. Once again, it was the very last thing she expected.

She read the whole file again, and then again, because maybe she had been wrong, maybe this wasn't House's file, but after the third time, it was obvious that it really was. Too many things coincided, it had to be his file.

She grabbed her phone and dialed Wilson's number.

"Hello?" he answered.

"James, it's Lisa… I think I found it"

Wilson understood immediately what Cuddy was talking about, but said nothing.

"It says 'amputation performed on patient's request'" she added then, hoping he would confirm it or deny it.

Once again, Wilson didn't say anything. He was probably looking for the right words.

"Yes" was all he could come up with.

However, Cuddy was not satisfied at all. The truth she had discovered brought more questions than answers.

"I can come over and watch Rachel if you want to go talk to him" she heard Wilson say.

At first, she thought he was kidding. That was not what she wanted. She could see House on Monday, at work.

But then, inexplicably, she found herself wanting to talk to him right now, ask him what happened.

"Where do you think I can find him?" she asked.

"Well, it's a Friday night, and he's not with me, so chances are that he's at home"

About half an hour later, Wilson arrived at Cuddy's house and in a matter of minutes, she already was in her car driving to a place she had thought she would never see again.

It was like being on autopilot. She remember all the roads, almost like she had driven through them until yesterday. That inevitably brought a smile to her lips.

While driving, she also questioned herself on why she was doing this. The news of House without his leg had already shaken her to the very core, more than she could have imagined, and now she also found out that he didn't just have it amputated, but he _decided _to do so. It had been a choice.

And that meant that maybe he _did_ change, after all. And maybe he _did_ deserve at least a chance to speak.

Cuddy parked her car close to his apartment, but couldn't get out right away.

In fact, it took her a few minutes, in which she wondered if she was doing the right thing, or if she was just being a fool again.

"You can do this Lisa", she whispered to herself, as she finally found the courage to leave the car.

She walked through the cold night air, until she reached his door. At every step, her heart beat had increased, and despite the outside temperature her hands were getting sweaty and her cheeks flushed.

She knocked softly three times.

Since she heard nothing, she knocked again, a bit louder this time. She briefly wondered if he had gone to bed, or if maybe he wasn't home.

Then she heard some noises coming from the inside, and in a matter of seconds House was standing in front of her.

The first thing he thought was that he had passed out on the couch, and this was a dream. The mere fact that she was there, in his apartment, was a clear sign that it was a dream.

There were signs that suggested the opposite, though. Like the fact that he had only one leg, while usually in his dreams he had two, or the fact that she was wearing jeans and sneakers under her coat instead of lacy black lingerie. Plus, he really wasn't that drunk, and that made it highly unlikely that he had passed out on the couch.

So this left only one option. It wasn't a dream. This was the real Cuddy. The question was, what the hell she was doing here.

"Hey" she greeted softly.

"Hi" he greeted back, his voice a little bit harsher than hers.

"Can I come in?"

"What are you doing here?"

Although they spoke in unison, they both understood perfectly what the other was asking.

"I wanted to talk to you" she answered, as House moved aside to let her in and closed the door behind her. As she took a few more steps into his living room, some old memories flashed across her mind, all the things they had done together in that room. They used to talk, play board games, make love. This was also the place where she had ended their relationship, and where he had married a prostitute.

"Talk about what? Troubles at the hospital?" House asked again, limping back to the couch using both crutches.

Cuddy's heart wrenched a bit at the sight. He wasn't wearing his prosthesis. The right leg of his pants hung down flat, empty, with a knot at the end. She knew he didn't like pity, but right now she just couldn't help it.

"About your leg" she replied eventually, getting closer to him.

House visibly flinched, but didn't say a word. _Wilson._

"I know the infarction story was a lie. I would like to know what really happened" she continued.

"It's none of your business" he stated, pouring himself another glass of scotch and drinking it up.

Cuddy sat down on the armchair between the couch and the piano. She didn't remember that armchair. She wondered if it was new or if she had just forgotten something.

"It's what you wanted to tell me, isn't it? Since I came back, you have always wanted to tell me something. It was this story, right? Well, now I'm here. I'm listening" she said.

In her own head, it sounded like a good thing to say. In House's mind, it didn't.

"Yes because that's how it works, right?" he muttered.

"What?"

"I said, that this is how it works. Everyone is at your service. You don't give a crap about anyone else's needs, just you own" he repeated bitterly, looking up meet her eyes. Cuddy was taken aback by his reaction.

"Even when we were dating" he continued, a note of resentment getting clearer in his voice, "or after that. Everything was always about you, what you wanted, what you needed. You, you, you. You bossing me around, you kicking me out at the first slip-up. You accused me of choosing myself, but you know what?" he paused to drink some more scotch "It was you always choosing yourself, because that's who _you_ are. A self-obsessed bitch"

"Right" Cuddy snapped back "Now I am the bad gal, and you are the victim"

"Well, maybe I am" he retorted. Inside him, he knew he wasn't. Well, maybe a bit, but nothing that could possibly justify what he had done to her. But in his head, that didn't matter. She wasn't going to forgive him anyway, she wasn't going to understand, she had probably just come to pity him or mock him. So he wanted her gone from his apartment.

As if she understood what he was thinking, Cuddy stood up.

"I'm out of here" she announced.

She had come here raising a white flag, just wanting to talk. She would have also accepted a "no", but instead House used this situation to let her understand that she was right all along, that he probably didn't regret what he had done, that he still felt good about it.

"You know" she said "I was starting to think I was wrong, that I was just being cruel to you for no reason. But thank you for always living up to my expectations"

And with that, she started walking towards the door, knowing this had probably been the closest thing to a conversation they would ever have.

But for House, those words were like a cold shower. Once already he had let her walk away from him without a fight. He wasn't sure he wanted to let that happen again.

"Wait!" he shouted, hoping to hear the sound of her steps halt. He didn't.

She had just crossed his threshold when she heard again "Cuddy, wait!", but she decided to ignore it.

Then, a few seconds later, a loud thud reached her ears, and that made her turn back.

She slowly walked back into his apartment, just to see House lying on the ground, his crutches on the floor next to him.

_Had he tried to run after her?_

Seeing that he was trying to lift himself up, the doctor inside Cuddy took over, and she slowly walked towards him to lend a hand.

"Don't touch me!" he barked at her, seeing what she was trying to do.

He was visibly angry, embarrassed, humiliated. She pulled back.

With effort, he managed to sit up and lean his back against the seatback of his couch.

"It was the only way" he muttered. Cuddy could barely hear him.

"The only way for what?" she asked. She was going to add "to stop me?", because she thought he was referring to his fall, but she didn't. Because he wasn't talking about that.

_His leg_. He was talking about his leg.

She felt her knees buckle.

"…House?" she prompted him.

He was still sitting there, doing everything he could to avoid her gaze. This wasn't how he had imagined it. This was humiliating on so many levels. But he knew he couldn't just refuse to talk now.

"I had finally adjusted to a life of misery again…" he started, feeling his own eyes tear up "then I heard that you were coming back… and I just…"

Hearing those words, Cuddy took a few steps back to lean on the door frame. She felt like all the weight of the world had been dropped on her shoulders, her mouth hanging open, her eyes staring at him.

She knew where this was going. She knew what he was going to say. She could feel the pain in his voice. A lump had formed in her throat, and no matter how often she swallowed, she just couldn't get rid of it. Her heart was racing in her chest, as she still couldn't believe this was happening.

House felt the same way. He blinked back his tears, no way he was going to cry now, and took a deep breath before speaking again.

"I just didn't want to be the monster that ruined your life anymore"

Hearing these words, the first tear rolled across her right cheek, followed by another, and then another. Right when she was about to start sobbing, she run away. Literally. She didn't want to be in that room anymore.

House heard her leaving, and he thought it was probably better this way. He let out a few tears as well.

She knew now. She knew what he had done. There was no going back. He only wished he had the courage to look at her at least once.

After a few failed attempts, he managed to stand up and limp back to the couch, and poured himself another glass of scotch.

In the meantime, Cuddy was driving home.

Everything felt like a dream, like nothing of this ever happened.

She couldn't even explain this. It was so _not him_ that rationally it didn't make any sense.

Another thing that rationally didn't make sense was her own mood at the moment. She felt shaken, moved. Maybe it was the whole scene, his vulnerability, or maybe the fact that he chose to use her words to describe his reason, but even though her tears had stopped, she still felt this huge weight on her chest.

_The monster that ruined her life._

Cuddy knew she had hurt him that day, she said those things for that purpose, those words reflected her feelings.

But right now, she realized what a big mistake it was. She should have let him talk first. And those things he told her earlier about what a terrible girlfriend she had been for him, those things, she recognized, were true. The day she had dumped him, she hadn't even given him the chance to explain himself, she had just taken her decision and that was all. She did the same two months ago: she had dropped on him all her anger, never even caring if he may have had important things to say.

Her mistakes in general were never as bad as his, but unlike him, she kept making them, again and again.

Wilson was still there when she arrived home.

They talked for a while, she told him what happened, then she cried a bit more on his shoulder.

Eventually, when the clock on her wall marked 1 am, Wilson left.

Cuddy went to check on Rachel, not because she needed to see if everything was fine (thank God she was past that age), but just because seeing her daughter sleeping so peacefully gave her a sense of peace too. She whispered "I love you", bending over her to kiss her forehead.

Then, she went to sleep, and for the first time in at least three years, she dreamed of House.

* * *

_So... the only thing I can say is that this is not the end of it. You may have some questions unanswered, but they will be answered eventually. Also, if any of you is interested, this was the idea at the beginning of everything. This story, that will have about 10-12 chapters, started in my head from this particular scene. _  
_Well... I hope you'll keep reading! Next chapter will be much "lighter"_!


	6. My Funny Friend and Me

_Hello! Here I am with chapter 4! It's Rachel-centric and totally angstless! I just though we needed a break after the past chapters. By the way, thank you for your support, you're amazing! Reading your thoughts and opinions is really rewarding, and I can't believe some people actually favorited this?! It's just great, thank you so much! I hope I won't disappoint you!_

_Unfortunately, today I also have bad news: my little holidays are over, so from Monday I won't have as much time to write as I had in these past two weeks :( this means I won't be able to update every second day (more or less) as I'm doing now, but I think I will settle on once/twice a week. _

_In the meantime, enjoy!_

* * *

**IV. My Funny Friend and Me**

When she got up that morning, Cuddy knew that this was going to be a busy day. In the morning, she had a meeting with a lawyer (she had to prevent a lawsuit against one of her best surgeons), then in the early afternoon she had another meeting, this time with a potential donor, one whose money could be used to improve the neonatal ICU, which was always a good thing: a hospital with a functional NICU was always seen as a worth-of-more-money hospital. Everyone loved babies.

Afterwards, she also had a board meeting, meaning she would probably be home late that evening, as the agenda was exceptionally full of things to discuss.

So yeah, busy day for the Dean of Medicine.

There was one thing Cuddy didn't expect, though. While she was waiting for the lawyer, she heard her iPhone vibrate. It was Rachel's babysitter, Jenny, calling her. That only meant problems. Jenny never called.

"Hi Jenny!" she said with a fake smile.

"Good morning Dr. Cuddy… Uhm, I'm calling because I don't think I can babysit Rachel today. I'm sorry… I-I woke up feeling dizzy and I've just thrown up… I think I may have caught a stomach bug or something…" the girl explained.

_Great_, Cuddy thought to herself. Jenny, like every day, was supposed to pick up Rachel from school and then stay with her until evening. Probably she would have also had to work overtime, that day.

"It's okay Jenny, don't worry…" she said gently.

"I'm really sorry Dr. Cuddy! If you want, I can pick her up and drive her somewhere… I think I could do that…"

"No, it's fine! I'll figure something out"

And she would. Of course, she had no choice. Unfortunately, it was too late to call her mom, and Rachel was too old for daycare, so there weren't many options left. She would pick up her daughter herself, and then leave her with her PA.

Still, there was no worse day than this to be without a babysitter.

She waited for Jones to be back: Cuddy had sent her to the Diagnostics Department with a new case about ten minutes earlier.

She had considered bringing it herself, but then she changed her mind. She wasn't ready to see House yet. It had been more than a week since that night in his apartment, and they still hadn't talked about it. Cuddy just didn't know what to say to him, and apparently neither did House, as he still avoided her like the plague.

As soon as she saw that her assistant was back, Cuddy went to her.

"Greta, I need a personal favor… my babysitter is sick and I really need you to keep an eye on my daughter today"

"Sure Dr. Cuddy, I just…" the younger girl started saying nervously.

"I know, this is not your job, but it will be just for a few hours and I will obviously pay you accordingly"

"It's not that, it's just… I'm really not so good with kids! I don't know what to say to them, or…"

Cuddy interrupted her once more, this time smiling.

"Don't worry about that! Rachel is very mature, and she is used to spending time with adults. I'm sure everything will be fine"

* * *

Rachel was spread out on the couch, her feet up against the wall, and her head hanging down.

She had been in her mom's office for probably less than half an hour and she was already bored to death. Mom told her she had a lot of work to do and Jenny was sick, and that Greta was a nice girl. Well, she was, she was just no fun. She was always on the phone, or writing something, never even considered her. She had given Rachel the remote of the TV and told her she could watch something, but there was nothing to watch!

So, after turning off the television, Rachel had looked around the office to see if there was something else she could do, but she found nothing. There were so many books she could have read (she loved reading), but she couldn't even understand the title of most of them.

Later on, she thought it would be a good idea to exercise her gymnastic skills, so she started cartwheeling around. At that point, Greta had opened the office door and told her to stop doing that, otherwise she could get hurt. Then, she had given the little girl a few pieces of paper and some pencils, and told her to draw something.

Rachel had rolled her eyes. She didn't even like drawing, not anymore.

And that's basically how she ended up lying upside down on the couch.

After a few minutes, she grew tired of that position, and she stood up.

She could see the people outside walking and talking and wearing those cool white coats, and she suddenly felt the urge to go and explore. She liked exploring new places. She also wondered if she could find uncle Jim. She was sure he worked there too: every time he came to her house for dinner, he and mom would always end up talking about work. He was a doctor, too.

The only obstacle between Rachel and her explorations was Greta. She wouldn't even let her cartwheel, it was very unlikely she would let her walk around unsupervised.

Unless she could find an excuse.

"Greta, I'm hungry" Rachel said, after coming up with what in her mind sounded like the best idea ever.

Jones looked at the little girl, who was now standing in front of her desk.

"Okay" she said smiling, "let me just finish this thing here and then I'll take you to the cafeteria"

"Isn't there a snack machine? I'm hungry now"

Jones didn't know what to say to that.

"I'm seven. I can go to the snack machine alone" Rachel pointed out.

The older girl thought about it for a few seconds. The machine was right outside the clinic, and plus there were nurses everywhere. No way something could happen.

"All right" she said eventually "It's in the lobby. You go through those glass doors, then you turn right and you should see it"

Then, she gave the little girl a few coins and watched her walking out with a big smile.

Rachel crossed the clinic and reached the lobby, as Greta instructed, but then she didn't direct towards the snack machine. Instead, she chose to look for uncle Jim.

But first, she needed to make sure Greta couldn't find her. It was a bit like playing hide and seek. She ran towards the elevators, mixing up with the other people that were already waiting for it, and ended up on the second floor.

She had a look around. Maybe finding uncle Jim was going to be harder than she expected.

Mom always told her that when you are in a hospital and you don't know something, you can ask the nurses. Rachel spotted one not so far away, and she decided to do just that.

"Excuse me nurse" she began, pulling at the woman's scrub top "Can you help me please? I'm looking for my uncle. My mom told me to wait for her in his office"

"What's you uncle's name, sweetie?" the nurse asked, bending over a bit "he's a doctor here, I guess?"

"Yes! His name is…"

Rachel was going to say Jim Wilson, but then she thought better. Mom always called him James.

"…James Wilson"

The nurse smiled gently.

"I know him, his office is on the fourth floor" she said "I need to check on a patient now, but let me see if there's someone who can take you there"

While saying the last sentence, the nurse turned around to look for a colleague, but by the time she found one, Rachel was out of sight. She had run towards the elevators as soon as she had heard the information she needed.

By the time she reached the fourth floor, she was pretty excited, and her excitement grew even more when she turned left and spotted a wooden door with uncle Jim's name written on it.

Mom always said that when a door is closed, you should knock before opening it. Rachel did so, but no one answered, so she opened it slightly, only to find out that the office was empty. Probably uncle Jim was around somewhere, like her mom.

Rachel sighed. She could wait for him in his office, perhaps he would be back soon.

_Or _she could explore the floor a little bit, which sounded way more interesting.

She started hopping and skipping along the hallway. It looked so big to her, and there were so many people walking around. She thought she would like to work in a place like this one day.

Suddenly, something got her attention. Not so far from uncle Jim's office, there was a glass door with another name on it: Gregory House.

Rachel smiled to herself. She had a friend named like that, once. She didn't remember much about him, it had been ages, but for example she remembered he had blue eyes, a cane and a funny voice. They used to have so much fun together, until he stopped coming over. She remembered writing him a letter once, but he never replied, probably because then she moved to Pittsburgh.

She paused that thought for a moment. What if this was actually his office? After all, she knew him when she lived here, so it was possible. Driven by curiosity, Rachel decided to explore the room, while she wondered why doctors had an office if they were never there.

There was nothing special around, nothing that triggered more memories. What caught her attention was a weird red and grey ball, kind of like a tennis ball, but bigger. She sat on the chair behind the desk, and started throwing the ball to the wall. It bounced off. That was the most fun she had since she arrived at the hospital, so she did it again. After a couple more times, she wondered if she could spin around on the chair after throwing the ball and still being able to catch it back.

That was the scene that House witnessed when, just a couple of minutes later, he stepped into his office followed by his fellows.

He glanced at the little girl, who in the meantime had stopped her game and was now looking back at him.

She was probably around six-eight years old, had brown hair, tied up in a ponytail, with bangs falling on her forehead, and bright green eyes, surrounded by a pair of round red-rimmed glasses.

"Don't tell me this one is yours too" House said in a mocking tone, glancing at Taub.

The doctor didn't even have time to deny it.

"Hi House" the little girl greeted, waving her hand.

"She's not mine, but I'm not sure you can say the same" Taub finally replied, looking at his boss.

But House was seriously confused now. He thought she was just a random kid, maybe the daughter of some patient, but she clearly knew him, while he had never seen her before. He simply had no idea who that kid was, he didn't know any kids that age, or at all. The only kid he had known in the past decade was…

His heart skipped a beat, as everything fell into place. The age, the hair and eye color.

"Rachel?"

She giggled and run towards him, throwing her arms around his body.

House was paralyzed.

He had thought of her in the past, of course he had. Back when he was dating Cuddy, he had grown to love the kid too, although he had never said it out loud.

He just never expected to see her again. He thought she would have forgotten him in no time, or that Cuddy would have talked her into hating him.

Instead, Rachel still remembered him, and with clear affection.

This thought caused a warm feeling in his chest, and he hugged her back. The last time they hugged, about a lifetime ago, she would only reach his leg. Today, her head was against his belly.

"You… you have grown a lot" he said, with more tenderness in his voice than he would have wished.

"Everyone says that" she replied, breaking the hug.

Suddenly, House realized his fellows were all still in the room, and were probably looking at each other with quizzical looks. Before this happened, they were trying to figure out what was wrong with their new patient, but right now his priority had become finding out what Rachel was doing in his office.

If Cuddy Jr was around, probably Cuddy Sr was around too, which meant no good for him.

"Guys" he said to his fellows "you resume the differential. The lady here and I need a moment to catch up"

House led Rachel outside, and they sat on one of the benches in the hallway. After a couple of questions, she explained everything he wanted to know, like what she was doing in the hospital (sick babysitter, busy mom) or how she had come to find his office (boring PA, missing uncle Jim) or how she recognized him (name on the door, plus blue eyes, cane, and funny voice).

He was genuinely impressed. But although he wanted to talk more to her, he just couldn't. Cuddy's assistant was probably freaking out already, and he really needed to focus on his patient. Rachel didn't react well to this news.

"I wanna stay with you. Greta is boring" she whined.

"I know kid, but I have to work. Maybe another time" he replied, taking out his phone from his pocket, ready to call Jones and tell her to come pick Rachel up.

"But I missed you" the little girl said, this time hugging him again, in a last attempt to make him change his mind.

For some reason, that did something to him. _He missed her too._ And the chances that he would see her again soon were close to zero.

He sighed. Maybe he could keep her for a while. He already worked with four morons who knew nothing about medicine, one more wouldn't make any difference. Plus, he figured she would probably get bored quickly.

"Okay kid, listen to me" he said, turning to face her and removing her arms from around his shoulders "you can stay here, but you have to follow the rules, otherwise you are going back"

Rachel cheered up immediately.

"What are we doing? Is it a game?" she asked in excitement.

"Kinda" he answered "a man is sick and we are trying to figure out what's wrong with him. If you want to stay here, you need to be silent the whole time and to follow me everywhere. It's very important. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"All right"

House called Jones anyway, just to tell her that Rachel hadn't disappeared and that she was going to stay with him until further notice. Then, he took the little girl's hand and they went back to his office.

"Romans, we have a new fellow for today" he announced in a solemn tone "This is Dr. Cuddy and she is going to listen to us doctoring for the rest of the afternoon"

Rachel giggled. House was as funny as she remembered.

"Cuddy as in Lisa Cuddy, the Dean of Medicine?" Park asked.

"I think that's her daughter" Chase replied in a low voice.

House didn't even noticed them.

"Dr. Cuddy" he said, this time addressing Rachel "these are your colleagues: Dr. Chase, Dr. Park, Dr. Adams and Dr. Taub" he pointed at each of them while speaking.

"So if everything is clear for everyone, let's get back to the patient. Where were we?"

* * *

The result of the differential was potential lymphoma with consequent paraneoplastic syndrome, so the patient was scheduled for an MRI.

Much to House's surprise, Rachel had been quiet the whole time. He had given her a piece of paper, so that she could draw something in case she got bored, but she didn't even use it. So, he had decided to do the MRI himself, and take the kid with him, just to keep her busy. Also, he had asked Taub to go to the pediatric ward, and see if he could find a kid-sized white lab coat (he had heard that sick children liked to play doctor).

So now, House and Rachel were sitting together in the MRI room, both wearing their white coats.

It surprised him how much she looked fascinated by the images that appeared on the computer. She kept asking question. He ended up telling her random facts about the human body, like why the blood is red or how the digestive process works. She had listened to him carefully, genuinely curious, and then she had burst into laughter as he pronounced the word "poop". She was seven, after all.

Later on, when the MRI was completed (House found a small liver mass, that seemed to confirm the diagnosis of lymphoma), he took Rachel to the cafeteria and got her a chocolate muffin. Now it was her time to talk, and, as House soon found out, she really talked a lot.

"It's Michelle's birthday in two weeks and I'm sad because I won't be able to see her. Do you think she will be mad at me?" she was asking him, her mouth full of muffin. Michelle was her best friend in Pittsburgh, it was one of the hundred things she had said earlier.

"I don't think so. If she's really your BFF, she'll understand" House replied, taking a sip from his coffee mug. He was sitting at a table in the cafeteria having a random conversation with a second grader, and it strangely felt not weird at all.

"Mom said I should ship her something, like a frame with a picture of us, but I think Michelle would prefer a friendship bracelet. What do you think? Would you like it if your best friend shipped you a friendship bracelet?" Rachel asked again.

House had a flash in his mind of him and Wilson wearing matching bracelets.

"Oh, I would love it" he said ironically, but the little girl didn't catch the irony part, so she smiled, glad that House agreed with her.

"You know, in first grade I also had a boyfriend" Rachel added, giggling. Then she gave a furtive look around, and gestured House to come closer to her, as if she were going to reveal a big secret.

He leaned towards her.

"We even went roller-skating once" she whispered into his hear, covering her mouth with one hand.

"You little rebel" he commented, and she giggled again.

"Now there's a boy in my class" she continued "he keeps teasing me but for Valentine's day he got me a necklace and a daisy"

"Well, then he's totally into you" House said, in a fake serious tone.

"You think?"

He nodded, drinking some more coffee.

Rachel ate the last piece of her muffin, reflecting on what he had just suggested, then asked him another question.

"Is there someone you like?"

House took a moment to think of a nice answer. "Yes, your mom", for example was probably not an appropriate one. He decided to remain vague.

"Yes I do. But she doesn't like me back" he replied eventually.

Rachel seemed saddened by his statement.

"Why not?" she asked.

Once again, he had to think about something.

"Once I… crashed into her dollhouse, with… uh, my toy tank. Didn't do that on purpose, but it got her mad"

The little girl was looking at him with understanding now.

"I think you should apologize. Maybe get her a daisy, or invite her roller skating" she said wisely.

House gave her a half smile. He wished it were so easy. Also, he wished it didn't feel like he was talking to Wilson.

Thankfully, in that moment Adams approached the table, ending the awkward talk.

"The patient agreed to have the liver mass removed, so Chase brought him to surgery" she announced, looking at House.

He nodded. This only meant one thing: since he needed to go check on the operation, Rachel needed to go back with her mom's assistant.

He turned to the little girl to break the news to her, but she spoke before he could even open his mouth.

"What's surgery?" she asked.

"It's a place for grownups kid. I have to take you back downstairs" he answered.

"No please, I wanna stay with you" she said, as she got up from her chair, reached him, and threw her arms around his neck. Hugs had worked once, maybe they would work again.

"Not this time kid" he said firmly, trying to drift apart "it's really not possible. You wouldn't like it anyway"

"But why not?" she asked pouting, looking at him in the eyes.

At that point, Adams interrupted the discussion.

"In surgery they cut people open. There's blood, and bowels, and it's really gross" she said, trying to sound convincing.

Her goal was to make Rachel think of surgery as a scary thing, but the final effect was the exact opposite.

"They cut people open?!" the little girl repeated, her eyes wide open "that's so cool! House please can we go there? Pleasepleaseplease"

House really wanted to kill Adams.

He knew he should have said no to Rachel, he should have brought her back. But unfortunately, the Cuddy women really seemed to be his soft spot.

* * *

House's team had paged Wilson for a consult a couple of hours ago, but he was busy with dying patients, so he only answered as soon as he freed himself. It had been a busy day, but thank God it was going to be over soon.

He was told the patient was in surgery, so he figured House would be there as well.

However, he wasn't prepared for the scene that appeared in front of his eyes as he stepped into the OR gallery: standing in front of the glass, House was holding the hand of a little girl, both of them were looking down at the surgeons, and both of them were wearing the lab coat.

"Good evening, Dr. Wilson" House said, acknowledging his presence.

"Good evening Dr. Wilson" Rachel mimicked, turning around and giving Wilson a big smile.

The oncologist winced.

"R-Rachel? What…" he stammered "House! Can I talk to you outside for a second?"

House knew he had no choice.

"Dr. Cuddy" he said to Rachel "I have to talk to Dr. Wilson for a moment. Will you notify me if Dr. Chase needs something in the meantime?"

Rachel nodded, and took a seat on a chair.

The two men left the room.

"So, the patient has fever, itch, seizures…" House started saying, but Wilson interrupted him straight away.

"House! Are you totally insane? She's seven! And what is she doing with you anyway?!"

House told his friend the whole story, what Rachel was doing at the hospital, how they met, and her weird interest in medical stuff.

Wilson folded his arms to his chest, focusing on how wrong it was to have a second grader watching a real surgery and ignoring the fondness in his friend's words as he talked about the little girl.

"But surgery House?! The OR gallery is not the right place for a child!" he insisted.

The diagnostician shrugged.

"I told you, she was curious. And who am I to stop a young mind from fulfilling its curiosity? Besides, she frankly seems fine to me" he said, glancing back at Rachel, who was still sitting on a chair with her eyes fixed on the monitor.

"You know who is not going to be fine?! You, when the elder Cuddy finds out what you allowed her child to do!" Wilson retorted.

House rolled his eyes in annoyance. Actually, he didn't think about the other Cuddy, or what she would say. She was not talking to him anyway, so no way he would see the kid again soon. He just had nothing to lose.

The two men talked a bit about the patient, then went back into the room and sat next to Rachel. For the first time since the surgery started, she looked away from it and went to sit on Wilson's lap, she kissed his cheek and started telling him everything about her fun afternoon with her friend.

House observed them, how affectionate they were with each other, the way she played with his tie while speaking. She had hugged House a couple of times too, but it was far from being the same thing.

_Of course_, he thought. Wilson had seen her grow, through a webcam yes, but House didn't even have that.

Suddenly his pager went off, distracting him from his thoughts. It was Jones. Meaning, Cuddy Sr was done with her meetings and wanted her daughter back.

"Kid!" he said to Rachel "Time to go, momma is back"

* * *

It was almost seven, so the clinic was already closed to patients when House and Rachel arrived there. There was only Cuddy leaning on the nurses desk.

As soon as Rachel spotted her mom, she run towards her.

House saw Cuddy bending towards her daughter, telling her that what she had done was not nice and that she shouldn't have run away from Jones without saying anything. He saw the little girl nodding, whispering something that he couldn't quite catch. Then, he saw the two of them hugging.

"All right, go get your stuff, you can tell me everything you did today while we are on the way home" he heard Cuddy say softly, and then he saw Rachel running cheerfully towards her mom's office.

That left him alone with Cuddy.

He thought his presence was not really needed, so he turned around to leave the clinic, but she called him back.

"House, wait"

She was walking towards him. He would have thought she was going to kick his ass, but she actually didn't have an angry expression on her face.

Did she want to talk about what happened at his apartment? Now?

He hoped not. It was one of the most humiliating things that ever happened to him, and he hoped he would never have to talk about it again.

"Thanks for watching her" Cuddy said instead, cracking a smile.

House wasn't expecting this.

"I mean, really… I don't know what the two of you did, but she seemed… happy. So thank you" she continued, taking another step towards him.

He didn't know what this was, if she was just being polite, or if she was trying to tell him something more. He just nodded.

"You're welcome" he said.

Then, Rachel came back and hugged House once again to say goodbye.

"When am I going to see you again?" she asked.

"I don't know kiddo. Soon I hope" he answered honestly.

Then they said goodbye again. House stood there in the empty clinic until the two Cuddys were out of sight, then he went back to his patient.


	7. Something There

_So... here is chapter 5! :D It's kind of a "transition chapter" (can I say that?). Still no angst! Also, it contains a medical case. Unfortunately I'm no doctor, so although I did some research, there may be some mistakes. _

_Thank you once again for your support and for your patience! Approximately, I think the next update will come on Monday or Tuesday, and it's going to be a big one! _

_In the meantime, enjoy! :)_

* * *

**V. Something There**

"Dr. House?"

House was sitting in his easy chair, reading Celebs, when he heard Jones's voice. He glanced up and looked at her. She was leaning on the door, with a too familiar blue folder in her hands.

_New case_, he thought sitting up.

"We have a three months old child with digestive problems, malabsorption and frequent infections. She's had an otitis recently " Jones explained, handing him the file.

House took it and browsed it quickly. Then passed it back to the girl.

"A baby that pukes and gets sick? Shocker! Tell her parents to chill out, she will grow antibodies and she will be fine in a couple of months. Case solved"

Having said that, he went back to his magazine, and heard Jones leave.

About ten minutes later, he heard again the sound of heels clicking on the floor, but this time, when he looked up, Cuddy was standing there, holding the same folder.

He swallowed. He couldn't remember the last time she was in his office.

"You didn't take the case" she said, taking a few steps inside.

"No need to. She's fine. She just has irrationally worried parents" he replied shrugging.

But Cuddy was not going to give up on this. She knew these people, she cared about them. She sat down on the footstool, next to his bad leg.

_His prosthetic leg_, she mentally corrected herself.

They still hadn't talked about it. Well, not that they talked about anything else. After the episode with Rachel, about a week earlier, they went back to ignoring each other.

There were a couple of things that Cuddy wanted to ask him, she just never had the occasion to. It was really not the kind of discussion one could initiate just like that. Plus, she knew she kind of had no right to ask him anything. The words that she had told him that day, in Wilson's office, still echoed in her mind sometimes, as she regretted them a little bit more every day.

She also thought a lot about what happened that night in his apartment, and what he had told her. She never really thought about her own role in the whole story, until he pointed it out. Maybe, after all, she too had something to apologize for (except the obvious).

Anyway, she was starting to just resign herself to the idea that they would probably never talk. A part of her was happy of that. He was still out of her life, so everything was fine.

Except for the fact that, well… it wasn't.

"What do you want?" House asked, and Cuddy realized she had been staring at his leg for a few seconds now. She moved her gaze to his face.

He wasn't looking at her. Cuddy had noticed he never looked at her.

"I would like you to take this case" she said softly.

"Why? I said there's no case"

"I know the mom, she was my patient in Pittsburgh, and she's not some irrational parent. If she thinks something is wrong with her daughter, then it's very likely that she's right" she explained.

House didn't say anything.

"It was me… I told her to come here… to meet you" she continued tentatively.

That was when he finally looked at her, genuinely surprised.

Not only had she made his name to a patient, but she had also come here, in his office, and sat next to him like she had made so many other times in the past.

He wondered if this could possibly be his chance to actually talk to her. After all, he never really apologized for what he had done to her. Not that she ever gave him the opportunity. But what if she was now?

Although he wasn't really enthusiastic about the case (he was still pretty sure there was no case), he agreed to take it.

"Thank you" she said with a smile, handing him the blue folder.

Then, she got up and left, while he paged his fellows and started reading carefully through the file.

* * *

The differential didn't really highlight anything. Given the age of the patient, the generic symptoms, and House's strong belief that it was all in her mom's mind, he just ended up ordering some blood tests and an echography.

He was sitting alone in the DDx room, trying to figure out if something had slipped, when once again he saw Cuddy's head peeking out from behind the door.

"You really do seem concerned about this baby" he commented, as she entered the room and took a seat on a chair across the table.

He could actually understand why. Turns out the mom was a single middle-aged woman who managed to have this baby after four failed attempts with IVF (he had done his research). Cuddy probably sympathized a lot with this case.

"Did you find anything?" she asked, completely ignoring his comment.

"I ordered a few tests. I'll let you know if something comes up" he replied.

Cuddy, however, didn't leave. She just sat there, staring at her own hands on the table.

"Rachel told me you brought her to the OR gallery last week" she said.

House couldn't understand from her voice if she was going to scold him, or if she was trying to initiate a conversation, so he opted for a neutral reply.

"She insisted. I thought there was nothing wrong with that"

"I know" she said smiling "You would let her watch a filthy pirate cartoon when she was three, I'm not surprised you let her witness a surgery at seven"

_I used to think you would let her drive your bike at twelve_, she wanted to add, but she didn't.

House didn't know if he was more astonished for the fact that she wasn't mad or for the fact that she was actually mentioning the pirate cartoon, one of the memories from their happy times. Maybe she didn't regret everything, after all. Maybe those things she said to him in Wilson's office didn't reflect her actual thoughts, maybe it was just her blowing off some steam, like he had done with his car. Except for the fact that what she did was not illegal and it couldn't potentially result in four dead people.

He looked at her. To him, Cuddy was always beautiful, but when she smiled like that, she was simply perfect. She could lit up a room, with that smile. He couldn't help cracking a smile too.

"Does she… does she still like pirates?" he asked tentatively.

"Not really. She grew out of it a few months after we left Princeton. After that we had a short cowboy phase, then a princesses phase, and then we were hit by the Frozen-Mania. When we moved back here she insisted on having her room painted in blue, so she could have her own ice castle" she answered, her smile turning into a huge grin at the nice memories.

"I think she mentioned it" he said, a hint of pride in his voice "isn't it the movie with the two sisters, Elsa and… Hannah?..."

"Anna, yeah"

"Yeah, she told me she and her best friend dressed up as them on Halloween. Your daughter talks a lot, by the way"

"I know!" Cuddy said, giggling "and what… what else did she tell you?"

"Among other things, I believe at some point she mentioned a boyfriend and a Valentine's day gift" he replied, subconsciously leaning on the table to get closer to her.

"Oh my God, she told you about Charlie?!" she was laughing now "That was a funny situation! When Rachel came home with that necklace on Valentine's day I actually had to call the boy's mom, you know, just to make sure she was aware of any missing jewel, and it actually turns out she received it as a gift for a magazine subscription, and his son took it to give it to my daughter!"

House burst into laughter as well. It looked like they found a topic that didn't make them fight or insult each other, but that actually made them feel at ease.

They kept talking about Rachel and the afternoon she spent at PPTH for a while, exchanging anecdotes on the little girl.

House hadn't felt so happy in years. Cuddy's laughter alone was a melody for his ears, but it was the fact that they were talking and sharing things that made his heart swell like he didn't think it was possible anymore. Plus, he was learning new things about Rachel, like the fact that she liked math and won a spelling competition in first grade. His memories of her were different, for years he had remembered her like the toddler who chewed on toys or ate with the wrong end of the spoon, but he had to recognize she had turned out to be an extremely bright kid.

"So, you never told her what I… you know, the fact that I…" he said at some point, finding himself incapable of pronouncing those final words.

"No, I didn't" she interrupted him, understanding what he was referring to "she was too young to understand anyway"

House thought this was the perfect moment to apologize. The topic had come up, and they both had enough endorphins in their blood from the hearty laugh they just shared, so he was going to go for it, when out of the corner of his eye he saw his team approaching the room.

"She has pneumonia. What's the plan now?" Chase asked, involuntarily putting an end to House and Cuddy's interaction.

* * *

As soon as the team started the differential, Cuddy went back to her office.

However, less than one hour later, the baby's mom knocked at her door in tears. Apparently, the diagnostics team had told her that her daughter, Kyla, had leukemia and they wanted to start her on chemo.

Cuddy took a deep breath, before promising her that she was going to speak to Dr. House personally, to make sure he made the right call. He walked in her office about five minutes after she paged him, while the mom had gone back to the pediatric ward.

"Ms Green says you want to start her three-month-old daughter on chemo. " Cuddy said, while House took a seat across her desk.

"Well, the kid has leukemia, so I don't really see other options" he replied matter-of-factly.

"How sure is it that she has leukemia?" she asked.

"About 80%"

Cuddy shook her head. "That's not enough"

"With her symptoms and her blood test results, it's what fits best. I can do a bone marrow biopsy if you prefer" he said, clearly challenging her. They both knew a biopsy in this case was almost as risky as chemo.

"It could be something else. It could be autoimmune, or genetic…"

House stood up.

"Great idea, I will go test her for all the hundreds of genetic diseases, thanks Cuddy" he retorted ironically.

"House. That baby is three months old. Chemo is insanely risky" she said calmly.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No, but…"

"Then shut up and let me do my job" he sharply cut her off, and stormed out of her office.

He could understand that she didn't trust him on a personal level, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of his patient's care. He was still a doctor, and a damn good one, and she had to trust his medical judgement, even when the patient was someone she knew and cared about.

He was in the middle of the clinic when suddenly the truth behind his own thoughts hit him, and he froze.

_It was me… I told her to come here… to meet you._

House suddenly remembered the words she had pronounced earlier. She _did_ trust his medical opinion, she _did_ trust him as a doctor, she _did_ think he was the baby's best chance. The point was that she cared about these people, she saw herself in these people. She was concerned for them.

And she was a doctor too.

It took him great strength, and a few minutes of careful consideration, but eventually he walked back to her office. Maybe, just for this once, _he_ could trust _her_.

"If I run more tests, and bring the chances of leukemia from 80% to 85%, will you let me start her on chemo?" he asked, after opening the door without knocking.

It took a few seconds for Cuddy to fully acknowledge his words.

He didn't formally need her approval to start this treatment, but he was respecting her counter-argument anyway, like he actually cared for her professional opinion.

That, for her, meant a lot.

She nodded, still astonished, and he left.

* * *

The team spent the night running every kind of test, trying to find a proof that the baby actually had leukemia, but when House arrived at the hospital the morning after, he found out that everything had been useless: the new tests actually decreased the chances of leukemia instead of increasing them. However, they also highlighted new symptoms, such as the fact that the patient had type one diabetes.

He was in the middle of the new differential when he heard Cuddy's distinctive steps behind him.

"News?" she asked "is it leukemia?"

"No" House simply said, shaking his head slightly.

Hearing that, Cuddy sat on one of the chairs around the table, took the patient's file and began reading through it.

"It could be cystic fibrosis" she heard Adams say, followed by House's negative feedback, but she wasn't really listening. A small detail had caught her attention.

"House" Cuddy said, looking up from the folder and interrupting the conversation "the baby's body temperature before the pneumonia was low"

House frowned. He had noticed that too, but it wasn't that low so he didn't really think it could be relevant to the diagnosis. Some people just had a lower body temperature, it couldn't be considered a symptom.

Right now, however, he put it into perspective.

"The patient has low body temperature" he repeated slowly, but he wasn't talking to the whole team, just to Cuddy. His eyes were now fixed on hers.

For the first time in years, they were really looking at each other, their gazes tied together by invisible chains.

"The patient has low body temperature, and type one diabetes" House said once more, while an idea started creeping in his mind.

"She also has an evident bone marrow dysfunction, digestive problems and a history of infections" Cuddy continued for him, her eyes never leaving his.

It was House who broke the eye contact first.

"Test her pancreas" he said to his fellows, who were now exchanging quizzical looks.

Then he addressed Cuddy again.

"This is Shwachman-Diamond syndrome" he said with a smirk.

She nodded, smirking back.

* * *

House stood outside the patient's room, watching Cuddy while she explained the diagnosis to the baby's mom.

He forgot too often what an amazing doctor she actually was. It was one of the first qualities he had noticed in her, back at university. She was this stunning girl with an amazing body, plump lips, firm breasts, big ass, but it was full of girls like that. What made Lisa Cuddy special to him was her brain, her ability to challenge him, how stimulating she was during a conversation.

She wasn't only the most beautiful woman he knew, she was also the smartest.

_And we'd actually make a great team_, he thought.

He saw her walking out of the room, leaving mom and daughter alone.

"I told her we'll notify her as soon as the genetic test confirms your diagnosis, but that we are pretty sure of it" she explained with a smile.

Cuddy had smiled so often to him in these past two days, that he wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly woke up panting in his bed.

"By the way, thanks for taking the case" she added.

"My boss didn't leave me many other options" House replied, and winked at her.

He regretted it instantly. Winking was against one of the rules.

He mentally got ready for the biggest scolding of his life, but after a few moments he realized she hadn't even noticed. The expression on her face had barely changed. He could still read gratefulness in her eyes, and something else too, that he couldn't quite define.

"I'd better get back to my… administrative duties" she said, walking past him towards the elevators.

These had been two weird days.

Although neither her nor House had tried to talk about their real problems, they talked, and it felt unusually normal.

Cuddy thought about what happened in her office the day before. Once, when they were dating, they had fought for something like that, because he had lied to her to get her approval, and it took days for him to apologize. Yesterday, instead, he had decided to listen to her even though it wasn't strictly necessary.

He would have been right anyway. Although the diagnosis of leukemia was wrong, chemo was the only treatment available, together with bone marrow transplant, against the complications that Shwachman-Diamond syndrome involved.

But he had voluntarily decided to respect her opinion anyway.

_Plus, we make a very good team_, she thought.

* * *

Neither of them had any idea of what was going on.

What House knew was that the following week, it was Cuddy herself that brought a new case to the team, and when it was time to get her approval for a nerve biopsy, he felt confident in asking for it himself. She seemed fine with that.

What Cuddy knew was that, some days later, she saw House and Wilson having lunch together, and it didn't feel wrong at all, nor she felt unwanted, when she sat down at their table and joined the conversation about the new weird janitor on the third floor.

What both of them knew was that, although they still had some important issues to discuss, wherever they were headed it seemed like a nice place.


	8. Four Words

_Hello everyone! I'm finally here with chapter 6 :) Thanks to all of you who reviewed, followed, favorited, or just read this! Sometimes I check the story stats so I'm aware of every single one of you! Thank you so much!_

_Now, as I said last time, this chapter is a big one: we reached the second turning point! Also, I think we are more or less halfway through the story (I planned about 12 chapters, but I think I'd mentioned this already). To those of you who are wondering, yes, I'm definitely going to finish this, I started this morning working on chapter 10, so no worries. The next update will probably come during the weekend._

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**VI. Four Words**

The only thing that House hated more than dealing with patients, was dealing with other doctors during social events.

That weekend, the administrators of Princeton General Hospital had organized a medical convention in a nice hotel right outside the city, a quiet place surrounded by a park with fountains, and doctors from several hospitals in New Jersey, included PPTH, were invited.

House didn't take part in any lectures or panels, he was never interested in that kind of stuff, but he decided to attend the final Gala party, on Saturday night. Actually, it was not really his choice, Wilson had kind of forced him to go.

The two of them had made a deal, several months earlier: whenever one of them was attending an event, the other one would go as well. The purpose of this was to save each other from embarrassing situations. They didn't know why, but although it had been years since Wilson's diagnosis of cancer and House's custodial sentence, people still seemed interested in it, and were very likely to bring it up as a conversation topic while talking to them. Which was getting annoying, really. At least, having each other was useful to share the pain.

So, this was the reason House was attending the stupid party, dressed up like a penguin in his black tuxedo.

However, that night things were about to take an unexpected turn. Wilson had left House alone to get some wine about half an hour ago, and he still wasn't back. Eventually, after the second unwanted interaction with an unknown doctor, House went to look for his friend and found him sitting at the bar, listening to a blond woman with a thick British accent. He looked very interested in whatever she was saying.

_Great_, House thought. His friend was probably getting laid tonight, which made his own presence at the party completely useless.

He was going to leave, when he remembered that he came here with Wilson's car. Meaning, he was stuck until further notice.

He looked around, to see if he spotted someone else he knew. None of his fellows seemed to be around, and, well, he didn't know many other people that he didn't identify as morons.

He got a glimpse of Cuddy, in the middle of the crowd. She was holding a glass of wine, talking and smiling to random men who were clearly interested in more than her opinions on current affairs.

He couldn't blame them. She was wearing dark red dress, laced behind her neck, that left her shoulders and back uncovered, and her hair was tied up in a bun, with a few locks that fell free around her face. She looked amazing.

House stared at her for a while. Their relationship had rather improved in the past weeks. They talked, sometimes, mostly about work, or about other random topics, but only if Wilson was present. Otherwise, if it were just the two of them, they kept their conversations very shallow, generally about patients. The most personal subject they ever discussed since she came back was Rachel, which, to House, was much better than nothing.

However, he still hadn't apologized to her, not officially, and he knew they couldn't keep going on like that much longer.

He sighed, and left the room. He would have a walk outside, get some fresh air, and then probably call a taxi. Wilson was still deep in conversation with the Brit, so he still didn't need him there.

* * *

Cuddy's face muscles were starting to ache. She had been smiling to basically everyone at the party since the moment she arrived, about two hours earlier.

Everyone, even some people she didn't remember having ever spoken to, was interested in asking why she was back, or what she was doing now, or what were her plans for the foreseeable future. She had been polite with everyone, but now it was really time to take a break. She needed some fresh air.

So she excused herself from the guests, and walked towards the main entrance.

As soon as she was outside of the hotel, Cuddy took a sigh of relief. There was a group of people smoking, sitting on the closest bench, so she walked a little bit around. It was a nice night, some stars were shining bright in the sky.

Turning left, she spotted another bench not so far away, but she noticed it was also occupied. However, taking a few more steps towards it, she noticed that the man sitting on it was House.

She smiled.

"Can I sit here?" she asked, getting closer to him.

House looked up from his phone. He was about to call a cab, but this was actually a pleasant surprise. He nodded, and she sat on the opposite end of the wooden bench.

For almost a minute, the only sound they could hear was the music coming from inside and the gurgle of the fountains.

"What are you doing here? I thought you didn't like this kind of events" Cuddy asked, interrupting the quiet.

"I'm here with Wilson… it's part of our bro code. Long story. What about you?" he questioned back, toying with his phone.

"Our rival is hosting a whole medical convention, I couldn't really skip it" she replied.

"I meant what you are doing outside here. Too many people hitting on you?"

She cracked a smile.

"More or less" was her simple answer.

House remembered when it was him hitting on her at parties, or every day at work. He was actually surprised that she wasn't here with a date, that she wasn't dating anyone in general, but this also felt someway good. Not that he had any real chance with her anymore.

"What are _you_ doing outside here?" she asked again.

"Wilson is busy with a new potential wife. I was going to call a cab" he replied, nodding at his phone.

Cuddy opened her eyes wide at the sight.

"Wait, you have an iPhone?"

House brought the phone in front of his face, pretending to analyze it.

"Yes, it looks like one" he stated. "why so shocked? Grandpa can't have a new shiny gadget?"

She chuckled.

"It's a present from Wilson actually" he added.

"Yeah, I had some suspicions"

Silence fell again between them.

"I almost forgot, the results of Kyla Green's genetic test are positive. We were right, it was Shwachman-Diamond syndrome" she said, a couple of minutes later.

"When did they arrive?"

"Yesterday morning. They were on my desk"

House nodded, and they went back to listening to the fountains.

At that point, although Cuddy would have liked to stay there longer, she was starting to get cold. It was that time of the year when during the day it could get nice and warm, but as the sun set, the temperature would drop and it was still cold.

"I think I'll get back inside" she said, standing up, "are you staying here?"

"I'll check if Wilson has got married while we were here, and then I'm calling the taxi" he answered, getting up as well.

She was glad to see he didn't have his cane. Lately, he often came to work without it. His walk was still not perfect, but it kept improving. She wished they could talk about it.

Together, they walked back inside the hotel. As they reached the room where the party was held, House was about to go look for Wilson, when suddenly the music changed. "Unchained Melody" started to play.

Cuddy sighed. She would have loved to have someone to dance with, right now. Ghost was one of her all-time favorite movies, it reminded her of when she was a fresh graduate, full of projects and ambitions. Once, when they were dating, she and House had watched it together. She had cried at the end, as she always did with that movie, while he had rolled his eyes and looked away.

Suddenly, she felt House poking on her shoulder. She turned around, and saw him standing there, a sweet look on his face, his hand stretched out towards her.

"Wanna dance?" he asked.

Instinctively she wanted to, but her rational mind was preventing her from accepting. What if it wasn't a good idea?

"I'm an excellent dancer" he continued, sensing her doubts.

"Oh please, you have two left feet" she pointed out, with a smile and a skeptical look.

"I _had_ two left feet. Now I have a left foot and a plastic foot. Maybe it works better" he replied, his hand still waiting for hers.

She took it.

It was the first physical contact they had in years, but somehow it felt extremely familiar.

House led her to the dancefloor, her small hand still in his.

_Oh, my love, my darling  
__I've hungered for your touch  
__A long, lonely time_

When they found a free spot, he gently placed his hands on her hips, and she put her arms around his neck, leaving a few inches between their bodies. They were looking at each other, slowly swinging to the melody, both feeling a little insecure about where this was going, as if they were in junior high again.

_And time goes by so slowly  
__And time can do so much  
__Are you still mine?_

House once again thought he was dreaming. He couldn't believe he was holding her again in his arms, inhaling her scent, after all the things they had done and said to each other. It was too good to be true. He had to use all the willpower he had in his body not to move his hands to her back, pull her closer, and kiss her. No matter what, he always wanted to kiss her. But he sensed it was not the right time yet. She seemed tense, as if she was overthinking this, as if she was not really there with her mind.

"If you think_ I_ can't dance, you should check out the guy behind you. I think he has something stuck up his rectum" he whispered in her ear, trying to bring her back there with him.

Cuddy was truly lost in her thoughts when she heard his voice. She was reliving everything that happened since she came back to Princeton, how she was sure House could never change, and how she then discovered that in fact he had. And now they were there, dancing to a romantic song, and he was whispering funny comments in her ear trying to put her at ease. Suddenly, she realized there was only one thing she could do.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, her eyes meeting his "for what I've said"

The time stopped for a second.

"I'm sorry for what I've done" he murmured.

For House, it was a huge relief. For Cuddy, that little exchange of apologies meant they could no longer ignore the past.

"What are we doing?" she asked softly, as the song was coming to an end.

"I believe the scientific term is dancing" he replied.

Cuddy didn't react, not even a smile.

"Let's get out of here… I want to talk to you" she said.

He was tempted to point out that they were already talking, but it would have been useless. He knew very well what she meant.

"Let me just check with Wilson" he said.

* * *

House found Wilson and told him he was going to leave with Cuddy. Wilson was a bit surprised at first, but then gave him green light: this Jane Watson he had been talking to for almost one hour was really intriguing him.

House and Cuddy left the party in her car. They didn't speak a lot during the journey, they just made a few comments about the weather and agreed to find a neutral place, neither his house nor hers. After that, House leant his head on the passenger window and looked at the dark landscape passing by.

Cuddy on the other hand was focused on driving, but couldn't help wondering if she had made the right choice. Inside her, she knew they couldn't just keep pretending that nothing happened, but she wasn't entirely sure she really wanted to hear the answers to her questions, for fear that they could change everything once again.

She parked her car outside what looked like a nice place to have a serious conversation.

It actually was. It wasn't as crowded as other places, and the music was not so loud either. They sat at a quiet table in the corner, facing each other, and ordered something to drink. House got a beer, he would have preferred scotch but at the same time he wanted to be sober throughout the whole talk, while Cuddy got a Diet Coke, because she had to drive, but she figured alcohol would have been much better for the occasion.

"So how do you want to do this?" House asked, as soon as the waiter disappeared with their ordinations.

Cuddy didn't really know what answer to give. She hadn't thought about it enough, but of course this was going to be awkward. The closeness they shared during the dance had faded as soon as they got into the car.

"We could ask one question each" he proposed, joining his hands on the table.

She felt extremely stupid in that moment, for thinking she was the only one who had questions, and for making the mistake of only thinking to herself once again.

"All right" she nodded.

"Ladies first"

Cuddy pressed her lips together, thinking of where to start. She should have definitely thought more carefully about this. She had so many things she had wanted to ask for weeks, and suddenly none of them came to her mind.

Thankfully, the waiter returned with their drinks, giving her a few seconds to brainstorm.

"I would like to know why you did that. The car. Why you tried to kill me" she asked, as soon as they were alone again. Pronouncing those words aloud was not easy, as all the memories rushed once again to her mind.

House had totally seen this coming. She was going to ask about the incident, or about the leg, and he was actually grateful that she started with the first one. However, the way she phrased it left him bewildered. Did she really think he tried to kill her?

"I _never_ tried to kill you" he answered, suddenly unable to hold her gaze, "I was… stoned. Couldn't think clearly. Believe it or not, I don't even have vivid memories of it… It's all a bit blurred. I saw you through the windows, and you looked so happy with that guy… I guess I was jealous. No wait, of course I was jealous. And angry…. Because you moved on, tossed me aside… And then, honestly, I don't know what came to my mind. I was… hurt. But I never tried to kill you"

Cuddy listened carefully to all his words. She had imagined she would feel angry again, because maybe he didn't have vivid memories but she had. Instead, she felt sad.

"It may not have been intentional, but you could have hurt someone" she pointed out.

House's first instinct was to defend himself, saying that he had seen them moving to the other room and he already knew Rachel was with her mom, like every Friday, so the chances he could have actually hurt someone were very low. But for some reasons, he didn't.

"I know. I didn't realize it when it counted, but eventually I did" he said instead.

_Eventually_. So she was right when she thought he hadn't regretted it right then and there. She was going to remark this fact, but then she looked in his eyes, and read all the unspoken words. There was a point in time where he might have felt satisfied by what he did to her, but that moment was over. Right here and now, he regretted it, and he felt sorry for it, and Cuddy decided that was all she needed to know. She was done holding a grudge.

"You go now" she said softly.

He looked at her puzzled. He was expecting a third grade, not just a random question, but maybe it was better like that. Just as she had done, he decided to drop the big bomb as well.

"Did you ever love me?" he asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

Cuddy had some Coke in her mouth when he spoke, and she was this close to choking herself with it. After a few seconds of consideration on how to properly answer this, however, she came to the conclusion that it was easier than it seemed.

"Yes, I did"

"Then why was I the only one hurt by our breakup?" he asked again. He knew they said one question each, but it came too spontaneous to stop. She too was expecting this.

"I was hurt, too" she answered.

He studied her, trying to find a sign that she was telling the truth.

"You never gave it a second thought. You dumped me, walked away and never turned back" he pointed out. He wanted to sound way less accusing than he did.

"You never really made any effort to win me back" she replied. She kept herself from adding _you married a whore._

Both drank from their glasses.

"After you parked your car in my living room, where did you go?" she asked.

House felt disappointed that she thought he was satisfied with what she told him, but decided to answer her question anyway.

"I went to Fiji for three months, just me and my bag of mistakes. When I came back, I went to prison for one year, until Foreman got me out on parole. When I violated the terms, I went back to jail for five more months. And then he hired me again. Nice, huh?"

She wondered at which point he started regretting his actions, but didn't ask.

For his next question, House decided to get back to his previous topic.

"After we broke up, did you ever miss me?"

"Before the car crash? Yes, more than you can imagine" she replied honestly.

"You never came to me either" he stated, looking down, referring to what she had said earlier.

For Cuddy, it felt like she had just been stabbed, not because of him, but because he was making her face her own mistakes. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"I know… I should have tried to talk to you when I knew you couldn't. I'm sorry"

She had thought a lot about this in these last few weeks.

"I want to be honest with you… I never thought we could get back together… but I do realize I could have done something more" she continued "I mean… I could have visited you, in that hotel you know… I could have shown you… that I actually cared, because I did. Instead, when I saw that you weren't fighting… I gave up too"

"I didn't fight because _you_ had given up" he said softly.

There were disappointment and bitterness in his words, and she felt a few tears stinging her eyes.

This was it.

Their first real adult conversation about their breakup left them both with a devastating conclusion. They both had their faults, they had hurt each other in the same way, and they could have argued for years about this, but the truth would never change: at the time when they were dating, they just weren't right for each other. No matter how much they loved or wanted each other, they just weren't compatible enough to make a relationship work. Both of them were too willing to turn everything into a competition, none of them willing enough to make real sacrifices for the other one. Both of them were always expecting the other one to be the one who would take a step back. Both of them were always choosing themselves.

So it didn't really matter how they played their cards. They just didn't have the right ones.

Neither Cuddy nor House actually voiced those words, but they both reached the same conclusion.

They were two smart people, after all.

"You never really believed it could work" he said.

"Neither did you"

They fell silent, for the first time acknowledging they were both right.

After that, Cuddy excused herself from the table and went to the bathroom. She didn't really need to use it, though, she just needed a couple of minutes to pull herself together. The fact that they were both being adult and rational about this conversation didn't make it less emotionally draining.

House in the meantime was waiting for her at their table, and kept thinking about everything they said to each other, wondering if there was still a reason to stay here and continue with the talk. Yes, he would stay to answer her questions, but he had already heard everything he wanted to know. A part of him had been hoping the whole time that she still had some feelings for him, that she was willing to give them another chance, because back then when they dated the first time they weren't ready, but maybe now they were. However, she didn't really seem to share this opinion. He should have expected this.

Cuddy walked back to the table after a few minutes.

"So… how is your wife?" she asked.

House immediately understood whom she was referring to.

"You mean Dominika?... We divorced. About two years ago" he answered.

_After she got her Green Card_, Cuddy thought. She took a sip of her Coke, waiting for his next question.

"Did you… date anyone?"

The last time he had asked that question things didn't end very well, she thought, but she knew things were different now.

"Yeah… there were a few people. But nothing serious" she replied, without giving too much detail.

She had dated six men in Pittsburgh, had sex with four of them, which was way above her average anyway, but she didn't really build anything with any of them. She just grew bored after a while. They were all amazing men, smart, handsome, reliable people, mostly good in bed, but as it always happened to her, she lost interest after a while. The longest had lasted five months.

"Did you? …Date anyone, I mean" she asked.

"Mainly hookers, if they can be counted as dates" he answered "and also Dominika"

Cuddy found herself actually surprised by what he just said.

"Oh… I didn't know you two were actually in love" she commented, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Love is a big word. We… liked each other. Enjoyed each other's company. I guess there were some feelings involved, but I wouldn't define them as love"

"Then why did you divorce?"

After those words left her mouth, she realized how inappropriate they sounded. It was none of her business, really.

He shrugged.

"I… threw away her Green Card, and as soon as she found out, she dumped me. Not my best idea"

House didn't really know why he even told her that. He guessed she would have appreciated his honesty for a change.

Cuddy was left speechless for a few seconds. He had said everything with his usual flat tone, as if nothing really mattered, but she knew better. He had obviously grown fond of this girl, if not in love. That's why he threw away her Green Card: he didn't want to be left alone once again.

This thought made her heart wrench. During the years, she had forgotten this side of him, or maybe she had decided to temporarily remove it: House craved love. People who didn't know him would say that he didn't do love, that he was a loner. But the truth was the exact opposite. House could love with all his heart, and he would give everything to the right person. He just had no idea how to show it, or how to ask for it, but he _did_ love, and he was afraid of being alone just like everyone else. He was human too.

Cuddy thought she should have remembered this when it counted.

Anyway, she was kind of happy for him, because this story meant that he had moved on too. In the last few weeks she'd had the impression that he still had feelings for her, but now she knew it had been all in her mind. This was supposed to make her feel good, and it kind of did, but it also kind of didn't. She blamed this mixed feeling to the emotional moment they were going through.

After that, they talked a bit about more general topics, like her life in Pittsburgh or his life in prison or back in Princeton. Among general information, they managed to find a few anecdotes that could make the other one smile. House for example told her about a couple of pranks he pulled to Foreman while he was Dean of Medicine, and she told him about that one time she flirted with a guy thinking he was in his late twenties and it turned out he was actually seventeen. Then, they talked a little bit more about Rachel, just because it appeared to be the only topic that could really make them both feel at ease.

However, they both knew they weren't really done discussing the important stuff.

"Those things you said in Wilson's office… you know, on your second day here… did you mean all of them?" House asked after a while.

Cuddy took a few seconds to think of an answer that could be honest but also not mean.

"Back then? … I guess I did. But now… I don't anymore… that was before…"

"Before you found out about my leg" he interrupted her.

They stared at each other. There it was, the only thing they kept avoiding, and at the same time the thing Cuddy wanted to talk about the most.

"Yes" she just said.

She didn't know if he really felt like discussing this, and, in case he did, how far he was willing to go, so she decided to ask first.

"Can we… talk about it?"

Her concern took him by surprise.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

_Everything_, she kept herself from saying.

"I don't know… Like why you did it, or when, or how, or… whatever you want to tell me" she said instead.

"You already know why and when and how, Wilson gave you my file"

"You know about that?"

"Have you met me?"

She smiled. Of course he knew.

"At first I thought he had just told you, you know, and I was planning to kick his ass. But then I found out about his little puzzle, and all the calls he had to make, all the emails he had to send, all the lies he had to make up… so it was only a fair game" House explained, a hint of pride in his voice. His friend had learnt from the best in the field.

"So… there's nothing else you feel like sharing?" she prompted him, careful not to pressure him. She didn't want that.

He looked at her. Normally, he would have said no. He didn't like to talk about this.

But she wasn't being demanding, or bossy. In her eyes he could see sweetness and understanding, like she actually cared about him. Maybe she did.

"I'm… pain free" he stated.

She could feel her eyes tear up. Those four words meant the world.

"I'd been pondering on the idea for a long time, you know" he continued, rolling the empty glass between his hands "I watched Wilson go through chemo, and then I watched him get better… that's where the idea really started. But you know me… I'm not really a fan of change. Never was… Until Foreman said you were coming back… and I though, if I'm not doing it now, then…"

He stopped when he noticed her grey eyes were glistening with tears, and a single one was rolling down her cheek. He had no idea his words were getting to her like that.

"I'm sorry" she said, "please go on"

He stared at her while she took out a tissue from her purse, and used it to dry her eyes. He found himself unable to continue from where he left off.

"After the surgery I started physical therapy" he said instead "but it took a few sessions before I could start using the prosthetic leg. Those days… when you first arrived here… I still needed to learn how to use it properly. But they said soon I will be running again"

No matter how often she dried her eyes, they kept tearing up. She remembered those days very well, when she thought he was on drugs.

"So no more pain?" she asked with a smile. Her voice was shaking.

"Still a cripple, but no pain. And no drugs too" he answered. He wanted to add that he still experienced muscle soreness or phantom limb from time to time, but once again he had to stop.

She had to put a hand above her own mouth to suffocate a sob, and then another one. There were days in which she had thought he would have overdosed, days where he almost did, days where he got this close to offing himself. But now?

He was finally free now. She was so happy for him.

He looked at her again, while she tried to contain her emotions, tears streaming silently down her face. He had planned to ask her why the leg thing had changed everything for her, but it was clear now.

It was not about her wanting him to change, and finally finding out he had, like he first suspected.

It was about her remembering how good he could be, how incredible, because now he knew that about himself too. It was about her being proud of him.

After that, they didn't talk about much else.

House was glad she never mentioned the night in his apartment, she probably knew it would have made him feel uncomfortable. Cuddy was happy they finally had a real conversation.

Both of them thought they should have done this a long time ago.

After paying for their drinks, they got back to her car, and she drove him home.

"I'm glad we talked" she said, while they were parked outside his door.

He gave her a tiny smile.

They wished goodnight to each other, then he walked into his apartment and she drove home.

They both fell asleep with a warm feeling in their chest.


	9. Chasing Cars

_Here's a new chapter for you! I hope you'll like the turn this is taking, although I'm pretty sure it's not what you expect. _

_Yes, the title of the chapter is also the title of the famous song. I got the idea after watching the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy *blinks away tears*, and realized it fitted pretty well with what I'd written._

_The next update will probably come next weekend, as I have an exam on Wednesday and I doubt I'll have time to write anything before that. _

_Well, enjoy! :) opinions and thoughts are always welcome!_

* * *

**VII. Chasing Cars**

It was a nice Saturday afternoon, a warm spring-like sun was shining in the sky.

House was having a walk in town. He did so quite often in the weekends, now that he had no more pain. It was relaxing, and now that the weather had gotten better, it was even more enjoyable. Still better than spending the days home anyway. His physical therapist had told him that the more he walked, the sooner he would be able to run, and House was frankly looking forward to that. Before the infarction, the pain, before all that nightmare, he was the sporty type. He would always do something, even a simple morning jog. Then life had taken that away from him, but now he was going to get it back.

On the way back to his apartment, he crossed a park. The green leaves on the trees rustled softly, moved by the gentle breeze.

House saw some kids playing on the playground and, instinctively, his thoughts went to Rachel. Since that time when she had spent the afternoon with him, more than two months ago, he hadn't seen her anymore. He wondered how she was, what she was doing. Cuddy had told him that summer break had already started, plus it was a Saturday, so she was probably playing as well somewhere.

Between him and Cuddy, things hadn't really changed much. After the big talk, that night, they found each other spending more time together, like for lunch or for a drink after work, but there was no big change really. At least, not the kind of change he would have liked. But at least they were closer, kind of. They talked about more things than just patients and Rachel.

Once, about a couple of weeks ago, he was visiting a patient in the clinic (the usual moron who was freaking out for an allergy) when Cuddy interrupted to ask him to see her once he was done. He thought she wanted some kind of consult, or maybe had a case, but once he walked into her office he found out she didn't need anything of this. Instead, she was browsing some pictures on her computer trying to decide which one she wanted printed and framed, and she asked for his advice. He stood behind her, leaning on her chair, while she showed him her favorite ones: one of her and Rachel at Disney World in Orlando, and one of them dressed in blue slickers under Niagara Falls. House and Cuddy agreed that the first one was cuter. That morning, he had learnt that she and Rachel liked traveling, and that they were planning a week in Hawaii for the end of July. Also, while he was leaning over her to look at the laptop screen, he had a really nice view of Cuddy's boobs, which was probably even better than the pictures. After they chose, she told him she would invite him over for dinner one day, to show him more pictures of her life in Pittsburgh. It had been almost two weeks, and she hadn't officially invited him yet.

So yeah, their relationship was still strictly work-related. No big changes.

House arrived home after walking at least a couple of hours, and was planning to take a shower, but first he checked his phone. He had left it home, as he always did when he went for a walk. He didn't like to be disturbed. His fellows were grown-up enough to take care of whatever emergency.

However, as soon as he touched the screen, he frowned. There were a few texts and five missed calls, all from Wilson.

First, he read the texts.

_Cuddy's mom is in the hospital_

_She almost had an heart attack_

_Should be fine_

They said nothing else. He noticed his friend had also left a few vocal messages, so he decided to listen to them before calling back. Maybe there was no need to call back.

_House! The ER run some tests on Arlene and one of her coronary arteries is partially occluded. Thank God her daughter is a doctor. Call me back._

_In case you are interested, they are going to do a bypass surgery. Call me back._

_House where are you? Answer the damn phone!_

_They are bringing her to the OR right now, some support would be needed, move your ass and come here_

_House I don't know which game you are playing, but get your bike and come here_

House was frozen. He knew he should have done so, or at least he could have called Wilson back. Instead, he threw his phone on the couch and went to take a shower. It was probably nothing serious anyway, Wilson freaked out easily.

By the time he was done, there were two more missed calls and one vocal message.

_House for goodness sake, answer the fucking phone! I know you are there, this is important. It's Cuddy's mom!_

That was exactly the problem, House thought. If Cuddy's mom was in surgery, it was extremely likely that Cuddy's sister was there in the waiting room. That woman hated him, both of them did. He remembered Arlene's words, "if you hurt my daughter I'll kill you", or something along those lines, and Julia... well, Julia was there the day of the incident. Of course she hated him too. He was not going to go there just to be insulted.

_Screw this_, he thought, as he left his apartment once again, his phone on the table next to the door. He looked at his bike, parked outside his house. He could have jumped on it and be at the hospital in no time. But he didn't. Cuddy hadn't even called him when this happened, she had called Wilson. So she was probably fine.

He decided to go for another walk instead.

* * *

By the time he was back home, the air had gotten chilly, the sun barely above the horizon line.

On his phone, there were fifteen missed calls, but only a few vocal messages.

_You'd better be on your way here, or I'm going to personally kick your ass._

_House please it's important… the surgery is not going well, her blood keeps forming clots. Please come here, at least call me back._

_She crashed once, but they managed to restart her heart. Where the hell are you?!_

The fourth message started with the sound of a heavy breath.

_House… she's gone. She crashed again, but there was nothing they could do this time. She's dead House. I know you are there, so please come to the hospital. Do it for Cuddy, she's devastated._

_House listen to me. I know what you are thinking. But please, just get your ass here._

House sat on the couch, paralyzed, holding his phone with a shaky hand.

Arlene Cuddy just died, and instead of being at the hospital comforting her daughter, who also happened to be the woman he was in love with, he had chosen to go for a walk, pretending nothing was going on. What was he even thinking?

Julia would have probably appreciated his presence, it would have shown her that he had changed, that he could be there for the people he loved.

Apparently he couldn't, though. He had no idea how it happened, but once again he had managed to leave Cuddy alone when she needed him. His rational mind kept repeating that she had her sister, her daughter, her friend, but deep inside him he knew this was not the point.

In that moment, his iPhone began vibrating in his hand. It was Wilson.

He could have picked up, just like he could have jumped on his bike hours ago and driven to the hospital, to be there for Cuddy, for Rachel.

Instead, he didn't. After a couple of minutes, he listened to the vocal message.

_Congratulations House. If you were trying to screw up everything again, with Cuddy, you succeeded. She's gone home. Nice way of showing her how much you care….. I don't even know why I keep calling you._

House was tempted to violently throw his phone against the wall.

It was too late now, even if he wanted to do something. Cuddy was going home, probably hating him again because her mom had just died and he couldn't even pick up the damn phone.

But she didn't want him anyway, did she? She hadn't called him herself, he wouldn't know anything if it wasn't for Wilson.

Plus, even if he had gone there, what could he have done? Comforting and consoling were never his favorite activities. He would have probably sounded awkward and felt uncomfortable, making the situation even worse.

Suddenly his phone vibrated again, but it was a text this time. Wilson again (who else?).

_House… I know you heard my messages. It's not too late, just do something._

He was tempted to ignore it and pretend he never received it, when he realized it was a chat message. Meaning, Wilson could see he was online and reading. He really hated technology in these moments.

_I can see you there!_

Another text. House rolled his eyes. At this point, he may as well have called him. He did so.

"You moron!" Wilson shouted as soon as he picked up.

"Hi to you too, friend of mine" House replied.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Why didn't you come?"

"I was busy. You know, hookers and stuff"

"House stop this!" Wilson barked, clearly upset "this was not a game! Cuddy's mom died! Do you realize that?"

"I know! What could I have possibly done?! Be there and what? Pat on Cuddy's shoulder while her sister insulted me?! Plus, she didn't even want me there, otherwise she would have called" House answered, losing his temper too. Wilson would never understand.

"What the hell are you talking about?! Cuddy didn't call you herself because she doesn't have your number anymore, you idiot! She has been asking for you the whole time, why else do you think I would have called you so often?!"

Wilson's words left House shocked. Cuddy had asked for him? Cuddy wanted him there… and he wasn't? Well, he seriously screwed up big time then.

"It's not too late you know" he heard Wilson say, his voice way calmer, as if he had read his thoughts "go visit her. Apologize. Make up some excuse, and say something nice"

House pondered on this idea for a few seconds. He wasn't sure he was ready, but he was way less ready to lose Cuddy's trust again.

"I have no idea where she lives" he admitted, in a low voice.

"I'll text you the address"

* * *

It actually took him another hour or so to find the courage to get his bike and drive to her house. He just kept sitting there, on his couch, staring at an indefinite point in front of him, thinking of what he could have said to her, and what she could have said to him.

When he arrived, it was a little after 9. He double checked the address Wilson gave him before knocking at her door.

Cuddy opened it a few moments later. She was wearing her robe, her hair was a mess, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Hey" she said.

House's sense of inadequacy made him want to run. He just had no idea what to say. He thought about what another person, like Wilson, would normally say in this context.

"I'm… sorry for your loss"

She nodded. "Thanks"

They just stood there, the silence getting awkward. Once again, he thought about turning back and going home.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked instead. After all, he still needed to make up for his daylong absence, although he couldn't understand if she was upset about it or not. She probably had her mind elsewhere.

"I was going to bed actually" she replied in a flat tone.

He could also catch the words she didn't pronounce. _You should have come sooner._

Another time, another situation, another person, and he would have just walked away. It was clear she didn't want him there right now, and he usually didn't enjoy being in uncomfortable situations where he wasn't even welcome.

But this was Cuddy, and her mom had just died, and there had to be something he could do.

"I know I should have showed up today" he began "but I was…"

He thought about Wilson's words. _Make up an excuse._ But he was done with excuses. This woman, this amazing woman who had allowed him back into her life after he drove a damn car through her living room, this woman deserved better than excuses.

"I was being my usual moronic self" he continued. "And I'm sorry"

Cuddy thought she had misheard. She just couldn't believe he, Greg House, had just apologized to her. She was planning to send him home and scold him at work next week, because once again he had managed to disappoint her, repeating the same mistakes he had done years ago.

But this changed everything. Because if he could take a step back, then maybe she could take one forward.

"Come in" she said, moving aside to let him in.

As he followed her inside, House had a look around. Her new place was much bigger than the old one. It had two floors and both the kitchen and the living room looked more spacious. However, he could recognize some of the old furniture, like the dining table or some shelves. On one of them, there were a few pictures framed. He spotted the one they had picked together that day in her office.

They sat on the couch, on opposite ends. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them. House had rarely seen her like that. Even when she was sad, she would always try to look strong, like she knew it was all just temporary. Right now, it looked like she wasn't even there, like her body was empty and her mind was elsewhere.

"I thought your sister would be here as well" he said. He wasn't sure it was the right thing to say, but he couldn't think of anything else.

"She went home… with her family. We are meeting again tomorrow morning at the hospital… to decide… to take some decisions" she said. She couldn't pronounce the word "funeral" just yet.

"And the rugrat? Is she already in bed?"

Cuddy bit her lip.

"She's not here" she replied.

"Is she… with Julia?"

Cuddy shook her head slightly.

"She left this morning… a friend of hers owns a big house in the countryside, and she organized this sleepover-camping birthday party… Rach was so excited about it, she's talked about it for weeks… I called her earlier to tell her what happened, and she kept saying how happy she was and how much fun she was having… I just couldn't break it to her" she explained, staring at her knees.

Then she looked at House.

"Do you think I was selfish?" she asked.

He had no idea how to answer this.

"I mean, she'll be back tomorrow morning around lunchtime… I thought I could let her have her fun night with her new friends… but maybe tomorrow she'll be mad at me because she wanted to know…"

Cuddy kept blabbering in a low voice, more to herself than to House.

"Am I a terrible mother?" she asked, this time addressing him again.

"You did what you thought was best for her. She'll understand it" he stated.

Cuddy went back to staring at the void.

House didn't really know what a supporting and consoling friend was supposed to do, but he was pretty sure that sitting there doing nothing was not on the list of right things.

"Is there something I can do..? Make you a tea?" he asked. Those words sounded so unnatural to him.

She shook her head.

"I'm fine thanks"

"Well _I_'m kinda thirsty, so I'll get something for myself" he cracked standing up. He was hoping she would have at least smiled at his words, but she remained unmoved.

"Kitchen's right there. Help yourself" she said, nodding at the room.

House poured himself a glass of orange juice, then decided to make her some tea anyway (Indian chai tea with half spoon sugar, he remembered), just in case she felt like drinking something hot later. He wondered if he should just go home after that. She really didn't seem in the mood for company, and he felt more awkward every second. At least, he was grateful for the fact that she wasn't crying anymore.

When he went back to the living room, she was in the exact same position as before. He placed the mug with the hot tea on the coffee table in front of her, then sat on the couch, this time a little closer to her. He was glad to see that after a couple of minutes, she reached for the mug and took a sip. He decided to stay a little longer. Maybe what she needed was just someone who would sit there with her.

"Did Wilson tell you what happened?" she asked, after she finished her tea.

"Just what happened at the hospital" he replied.

Cuddy placed the empty mug back on the coffee table.

"We were having an afternoon out… Julia, mom and me. We do that sometimes. While we were having lunch, mom said she was feeling a bit of pressure on her chest, but I… ignored it. Told her she just ate a lot. You… you do remember my mom, don't you? She can be such a hypochondriac" Cuddy started saying, feeling her eyes tearing up again "then we went to the mall… she was fine. I swear she was fine. And then suddenly she started saying she was in pain… and now…"

She stopped. A few tears were running down her cheeks.

House's heart broke a little in seeing her like that.

"Now she's dead. My mom is dead"

It was the first time she pronounced that word aloud, and suddenly the world crashed on her. Her mom was gone. It wasn't a nightmare, it was true. She would never see her again, hear her voice again. The person who had given birth to her, raised her, loved her, challenged her, made her the woman she was today, that person was dead. _Dead_.

Cuddy started sobbing uncontrollably, unable to even bear that thought.

"I should…. I should have listened to her… she would be alive…" she managed to say between sobs and sighs, her body shaking violently, her cheeks wet and burning.

House stared at her. This was the thing he had dreaded the most, seeing her cry like that and feeling incapable of providing any kind of comfort.

Tentatively, he shifted closer to her on the couch and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

Before he could even realize it, she had wrapped her arms around his body, burying her head on his shoulder, her tears wetting his shirt.

He froze. He wasn't expecting this.

It took him a few seconds before he enveloped her in his arms, her upper body still convulsing against his.

It kept feeling weird and uncomfortable for a few more seconds, and House was starting to gently pat on her back, hoping she would break the hug, when suddenly endorphins took over in his blood, and having her so close became a pleasant, relaxing feeling. He pulled her a little closer.

He started rubbing her back slowly, soothingly, with circular movements, feeling her calm down a little bit more at every stroke. Soon he heard her sobs getting less violent, less frequent. Eventually they stopped, and he heard her breathing become normal again.

None of them felt like pulling away, though. He kept doing what he was doing with his hands, roaming her back and occasionally grazing her hair. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her fingers tracing small casual patterns on his lower back.

It felt good. House used to think he would feel totally out of place in such a situation, but whatever she was doing with her little hands was giving him shivers, surprisingly in a non-sexual way. It was just relaxing.

She was feeling the same.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that before he spoke.

"My mom died too" he whispered.

Her body stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing again under his touch.

"When?" she asked, her chin still resting on his shoulder.

"While I was in jail the second time" he replied.

She hugged him even tighter, understanding the implications he was leaving unspoken.

"What happened?" she asked again, cautiously. He never mentioned anything about it, so maybe it was a topic he didn't want to talk about.

"Stroke. She was alone when it happened… I could have saved her if I had been around"

She didn't ask any more questions.

House didn't really know why he was sharing this kind of information, he just knew that it felt appropriate.

They remained like that for a while, enjoying the silence embraced together, breathing each other's scent.

Cuddy was the first who pulled back. "Thank you" she whispered, a tiny smile appearing on her lips.

"Anytime… by the way, I think you may need a tissue" he cracked, gesturing towards his nose.

She realized she had snot coming out of her nose, like a little child. She giggled sheepishly, before taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

House was proud of himself: he had managed to make her laugh, despite everything else.

"I think I'm going to bed now" she said, after blowing her nose.

House got the subtext that was suggesting him to leave, so he nodded and stood up.

"Wait" he heard her say, when he was about halfway between the couch and the main door.

He turned around to face her.

"Can you just… stay here?" she asked tentatively, biting her lower lip.

"I thought you wanted to sleep" he pointed out.

"I do… I just don't want to be alone"

House frowned. Did she want _sex_? She didn't really seem to be in the mood. Well, if this was what he needed, he was more than happy to give it to her. For years he had dreamed about her body, her scent, the way she felt around him, the way she moaned his name as she came. Yep, she could definitely count him in.

"I have a guest room upstairs" she added.

_Right, _he thought. So his little fantasy wasn't going to take place.

"Fine" he said, hiding his disappointment.

She turned off all the lights, and then he followed her upstairs.

"This place is really big" he commented, looking around as they reached the second floor.

Cuddy smiled. "We like having our space"

The doors he could see where all identical, except for one, which was full of colorful stickers. Some of them were letters and formed the word "Rachel".

"Can I… see the ice castle?" he asked, pointing at the room.

She chuckled, then nodded. "Sure"

She opened the door and turned on the light for him. It was a big room, the walls painted in different shades of blue. There were toys on the shelves, mainly stuffed animals, way less dolls than he imagined, and a lot of books. Then, in the middle of the room, there was Rachel's bed, with a giant yellow duck on it, which was not so yellow anymore.

"She still has the duck" House stated.

"Are you kidding me, she loves that duck! Sometimes when I work late I come home and she's practically sleeping on it" Cuddy said.

He knew that duck, he knew it was a present from Wilson. He had given it to Rachel even before she was legally adopted.

House sighed. That was why he wasn't with Cuddy, that was why their relationship couldn't work: because he wasn't the kind of man who bought giant stuffed toys, but one who would suggest a new mother to _give her daughter back_. He shuddered in disgust at the memory of his own words. Right now, he couldn't even imagine a world where Rachel Cuddy wasn't Rachel Cuddy. Or maybe he could, but it didn't really sound like a place he would have liked to live in.

"You can babysit her sometimes… if you want to" he heard Cuddy say, as if she could read his thoughts.

"Yeah. Why not"

She closed the bedroom door.

"That's my room, and that's the guest room" she said, pointing at two more doors.

"I will use the bathroom first"

"Sure… it's over there"

After he was done, he found her sitting on her bed, something in her hands, the room only lit by the bare light of the table lamp. He was planning to ask again where the guest room was, because he couldn't remember it, but as he took a few steps into her bedroom he noticed that the thing she was holding was a frame with a picture. And she was weeping.

"Look" she said in a shaky voice, gesturing at him to come closer "we took it on the day I graduated from med school. It was on my dresser, but I think I'll put it on my nightstand now"

House was now standing in front of her, looking at the old photo. Pictured there, he could see a young Arlene and a much younger Cuddy, both smiling at the camera.

"It was… it was one of the few times where she told me how proud she was" Cuddy added, putting the frame on the nightstand, some tears streaming down her face.

House knew Cuddy and her mom had a weird relationship, but he also knew they loved each other very much, although sometimes it didn't show.

He didn't say anything. He just sat on the bed next to her, as he had done earlier.

"Please stay here" she whispered, looking at him, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

He didn't quite understand what she meant, he had already agreed on spending the night at her house. He guessed she was just asking for one more confirmation.

"I've already said yes. In fact I came here to ask…" he began.

"No, I mean… _here_" she interrupted him.

House froze. She didn't want him in the guest room anymore, she wanted him there, in her room, with her. As he started counting in his head all the possible implications of this (sex?), he saw her crawling on the mattress, reaching the other end of it, the end that used to be her side when they were dating, and leaning back against the pillows, still facing him.

"All right" he said "I always liked morning sex better than _mourning_ sex, but I adapt easily"

At these words, she sat up, leaning on her arms.

"I don't want sex, I just…" she started, looking away for a second, before meeting his eyes again "Will you just… lie here with me?"

That night, he never spoke again.

He turned off the lights he had left on, removed his shoes, and then, without saying a single word, he lay down next to her, and almost automatically enveloped her in his arms as she got closer. She rested her head on his chest, one arm across his waist.

They were never cuddlers. When they dated, they used to have a lot of sex, a lot of hot sweaty moments, cuddles were never their thing. Of course they would snuggle up after that, or sometimes when watching TV, but they always preferred other kind of activities. Tonight, however, it felt just right.

He resumed the soothing motion on her back, like he had been doing earlier on the couch. This time, she remained still, just enjoying the attentions she was receiving, without thinking about giving something back. He was fine with that.

After a while, he felt her breathing pattern become lighter and more regular, and he realized she had fallen asleep. He didn't stop his hand just yet, for fear that she could wake up.

The last thing House thought before eventually falling asleep too, was that he would have loved to have someone taking care of him the night his mom died. Someone who would sit in silence with him and who would make him a cup of tea, or damn, even someone who would hug him. Instead, all he had was himself, in that cold hellhole that was his prison cell.

* * *

House didn't really sleep well that night. He wasn't used to keeping his prosthesis at night, so he would wake up at every little movement.

Cuddy just woke up once, thinking it had all been a dream. It took her a few seconds to acknowledge that her mom was really dead, and as soon as this realization hit her, she started crying. House was awake when it happened. Without speaking he shifted closer to her, and gently stroked her hair until she fell asleep again.

He woke up one last time that it was already morning. The clock on the nightstand marked almost 8 am. He was alone in bed, Cuddy's side cold already.

He got up, found his shoes, and went downstairs. As he went down the last steps, he almost bumped on her, who was going the opposite direction.

He looked at her. She was fully dressed, showered, perfect hair, flawless makeup. She didn't even look like the woman he had been hugging all night.

"I was coming to wake you up" she said "I'm meeting Julia in half an hour at the hospital, so I'm leaving in a few minutes"

He nodded. "I'll go then"

She took him to the door.

"You look much better" he stated while they were walking.

"Thanks" she replied, cracking a smile.

They looked at each other, his hand on the doorknob, both thinking that if they'd had sex, it would probably have been way less awkward.

"Look" she began, tucking her hair behind her ear "last night was…"

"A mistake, got it" he cut her off. Even though they didn't have sex, the level of intimacy they shared was pretty high, and he thought she was regretting it.

Cuddy however looked disappointed at his words.

"Honestly I was going to say that it's been really nice… and I wanted to thank you, because… you stayed with me. And right now I wouldn't be this ready to face the day if I had spent the night alone… so yes, this is what I was going to say… but if you…"

"It was really nice for me too" he quickly interrupted her, as soon as he realized his mistake.

She smiled, and waved him goodbye as he opened the door.

"Say hi to the kid from me" he said, before walking out and driving home on his bike.

* * *

Wilson was positively surprised when House told him that he spent the night at Cuddy's place and actually slept on the couch (he had decided to change a few details about the story, the cuddles for example, for fear that he would be mocked to death). Wilson, however, was shocked like never before when House told him he was planning to attend Arlene's funeral.

The ceremony took place a couple of days later. It was very simple, although a lot of people came to say one last goodbye to the woman. It looked like she was a beloved element of the Jewish community.

The reception was held at Julia's house, as it was the biggest and the closest to the synagogue. House felt vaguely out of place. He had only come for Cuddy, but he still hadn't had the opportunity to talk to her. He just got a glimpse of her a couple of times, when she delivered the eulogy or while she was helping her sister with the food.

When he finally managed to talk to Cuddy, it was the wrong one.

"It was very nice of you to park outside today" Julia told him while he was drinking a glass of wine.

"I came here for your sister" he said in a low voice. The last thing he wanted was to start a fight during a funeral.

"I imagined" she replied, starting to walk away.

House stopped her before she could go too far.

"I'm sorry for your loss" he whispered. Cuddy, the other Cuddy, would have appreciated the fact that he was being nice to her sister.

Julia nodded, then walked away. He wondered how much she knew about him.

Later, he also got to see Rachel again, which was a good thing, although he was hoping for a more joyful occasion. She was sitting on the couch, with her legs folded and an iPad in her hands, playing Candy Crush Soda Saga. He figured she was probably bored to death, as he was, so he took a seat next to her.

"Hiya kiddo" he said cheerfully.

"Hey House"

Her greeting, however, was not nearly as cheerful as his. He froze. She was not bored, she was sad.

A part of him wanted to stand up and run away. He had no idea of how to deal with a sad adult, let alone a sad child. Plus, he'd never seen Rachel unhappy. She'd throw tantrums from time to time, but she was never like this.

_She should never be like this, _he couldn't help thinking.

Once again, he decided to stay.

"Which level are you in?" he asked casually.

"Twenty-eight" she replied, without looking away from the game "I'm stuck"

"I can help you if you want to" he offered. When he first tried it, he had to repeat that level a couple of times too.

"Really?"

"Sure. Gimme"

Rachel handed him the iPad, then climbed on his lap. She shifted a couple of times, then she made a pouty face.

"Your right leg feels weird" she said.

House was sincerely taken aback by her comment, but didn't give it too much importance. Instead, he decided to play along.

"That's because it's made of iron" he replied matter-of-factly. It was actually made of steel, but "iron" sounded more like a superhero.

She folded her arms.

"I don't believe you" she said, giving him a sassy look that made him think she had definitely become a lesser version of her mom.

"Well, take a look" he said, nodding at his ankle. He pulled up the lower end of his pants a few inches, just for her to see he wasn't lying. Her mouth fell agape.

"Wow!" she uttered, kneeling down on the floor and grabbing the prosthetic leg with her little hands. He couldn't help flinching slightly. It was the first time that someone else touched it.

"How did you do it?" she asked, still in awe, looking up at him.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you" he replied, winking at her.

Rachel opened her eyes wide, but then she giggled.

"You're so funny!" she said, climbing again onto his lap.

House smiled. He was getting good at cheering up the Cuddy women.

They stayed there for a while. First, he showed her how to solve level 28. Then they took some selfies with one of those apps that distorted faces. Now, Cuddy's iPad had about twenty weird pictures of House and Rachel. Their favorite pic was the one where they had very long necks, very narrow chins, and very wide foreheads, with huge eyes.

"We look like aliens" Rachel had said laughing. House had set it as lock screen, and sent it to himself via email.

After a while, a kid came to invite her to join another activity, and she agreed, leaving House alone. She kissed him goodbye on the cheek.

That was about when he spotted Cuddy again. She was talking to other guests. On the outside, she appeared normal, but he knew better: he could see some small drops of sweat of her forehead, meaning she probably wasn't feeling so well. As a matter of fact, a couple of minutes later he saw her running up the stairs, looking around to make sure no one was noticing her. House, on instinct, followed her.

He found her in the bathroom, bent over the toilet bowl, throwing up. He closed the door behind him and approached her, removing her hair from her face.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Cuddy sat on the floor, her back against the wall, her elbow on the toilet seat.

"I'm pathetic" she replied, getting some toilet paper to clean her mouth.

House sat on the edge of the tub, in front of her.

"At my mom's funeral, I had a fight with her husband, like a real fight, with punches and kicks. He got everything wrong about the ceremony. I think your reaction is at least socially acceptable" he said.

She smiled. "I thought you were in jail when it happened"

"I was. But I was granted a furlough for the day" he explained.

She leaned her head against the wall.

"My shoes are killing me" she said.

"What?"

"My shoes. They're new. I thought it would be nice to have a new pair of shoes for my mom's funeral… turns out they aren't shoes, they are torture devices"

House smirked.

"You used to have an old pair in your car for these occasions" he said.

She shook her head.

"I can't leave. What would people think?"

"I can get them for you"

She looked up at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Just tell me where your keys are and I'll be back in a few minutes"

He did so. After less than five minutes, he was back with a brown bag containing a pair of black shoes, very similar to the ones she was wearing, just visibly older.

In the meantime, Cuddy had got up from the floor and sat on the closed toilet.

House kneeled down in front of her.

"What…what are you doing?" she asked, a clear note of concern in her voice, as he gently lifted her left foot and removed her shoe.

He didn't even have to answer the question in words. He started rubbing her foot, firmly and with just the right amount of pressure. He began from her heel, then massaged all the way down to her toes, focusing on that particular area right under them. When his thumb started working on it in circular motions, a moan escaped her lips.

"Oh my God this is good" she whispered, closing her eyes.

House looked up at her, smirking. She was vaguely erotic. He was going to point out that there were more parts of her that he could have massaged if she wanted to, but then he changed his mind. First, he was afraid it would have broken the spell. Second, even he could understand this really wasn't the right moment for an indecent proposal.

So he just kept going with the massage.

After he was done with both feet, she thanked him and stood up. He did so too.

"I think I'm fixing my makeup and then I'm going back downstairs" she said.

He nodded. "See you there then"

That day, as he suspected, they had no more chances to speak again.

He left with Wilson about one hour later, together with all the other colleagues or acquaintances, leaving the closest friends and relatives alone at the reception.

That night, about when he was about to go to sleep, House received a text from an unknown number.

_Cute picture_

He saved the sender as "Lisa Cuddy". Wilson had probably given her his number, after the misunderstanding the day her mom was at the hospital. Then, he replied.

_ We are pretty photogenic_

He left his phone on the nightstand and turned off the light. About two minutes later, it vibrated again.

_You sure are! By the way, thanks for coming today. Good night _

He smiled.

_ You're welcome. Good night_


	10. Wonderwall (pt1)

_Sooo I'm back earlier than I thought, but just because I decided to split chapter 8 in two parts... I'm particularly satisfied with this chapter and I thought it deserved its own cliffhanger! :P_

_Be aware of some drama! Things couldn't keep going smoothly, could they? _

_The title is once again from a song, yes the very famous one, and I think you'll understand the connection... if not, I will write it at the end of the next update, which by the way should come on Saturday, I think._

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**VIII. Wonderwall (pt. 1)**

Cuddy and Rachel eventually managed to adjust to a life without Arlene. It was very hard at first, but day after day, it got a little better. They also spent their week in Hawaii at the end of July, as they had originally planned. They had a great time, got to see a lot of animals, and Cuddy finally enjoyed some relax.

Actually, getting back to work after the short vacation was pretty tough for her, and although it had been almost two weeks since she was back, she still had a hard time getting up in the morning, especially in busy days like this.

She sighed, glancing at all the papers spread across her desk. It was already lunchtime and there were a lot of things she still needed to do. Maybe she could find some time to have lunch with House though.

She left her office, headed towards the fourth floor.

As she stepped into his office, however, she could immediately sense that something was wrong. House was standing in front of the windows, lost in his thought, his eyes staring at the landscape.

"Hey! Do you want to grab lunch together?" she asked cheerfully, hoping this would stop his mind from wandering who knows where.

Lately, they had lunch together almost regularly, once or twice a week, more if you counted the ones where Wilson was present too. After they spent the night together, even though just in a platonic way, almost three months ago, they'd gotten closer. They never really talked about that, but it happened sometimes that they sought each other's company, sometimes without an excuse, some other times without even having something to say. It happened that they just wanted to be close to each other. Cuddy liked this new change. It felt like they were friends again, like they hadn't been in a long time.

"House?" she prompted him again, as he didn't offer an answer, nor he seemed to have acknowledged her presence in the room.

She took a few more steps, getting closer to him, and she frowned.

He was leaning on his cane.

She hadn't seen him with a cane in months, if not on sporadic occasions. Cane day meant bad day.

She put a hand on his arm, to draw his attention to her. He flinched slightly, then glanced at her briefly, before returning his gaze to the previous spot.

"House? Wanna grab lunch?" she repeated cautiously.

"Not that hungry" he replied harshly.

She shuddered at his words.

"Is everything okay?" she asked in a low voice. He never refused lunch.

"I'm fine"

Cuddy sighed. It was evident that something was wrong indeed. She wondered what it could be, if it was her fault. Had she possibly done something wrong, that could upset him? She thought about what happened recently, but she could find nothing. Unless this wasn't about her.

"Is something wrong with your patient?" she asked tentatively.

This time, he didn't reply. She figured she had hit the mark. Softly, she shifted the hand that was still resting on his arm towards his upper back, applying a light pressure to the motion, just so that he could feel her.

This gesture was meant to be reassuring, maybe comforting. Instead, he jumped away.

"Leave me alone" he said. He didn't look at her, or he would have seen that she wasn't ready to give up just yet.

"Sure you don't want to talk about it?"

She had used a soft, understanding tone. Since she was back, she'd had the impression that he was more keen on talking than before, more willing to express his feelings. She had thought today was the same, that he just needed some encouraging.

She recoiled when, instead, he abruptly turned around to face her, his eyes flashing.

"I said leave me alone!" he barked.

She left without saying a word.

* * *

Cuddy spent the following hours trying to focus on her paperwork, getting ready for the board meeting that would take place the following morning. Her thought had shifted to House a couple of times. Every time someone knocked at her door, she hoped it was him, maybe coming to apologize for the way he treated her. Not that she was mad at him, it was clear that something was wrong. She just wished he would seek help, for once, possibly in her, as she had done with him that night. She felt a bit like she owed him.

She had to pause her work when she was paged by a nurse in the clinic.

However, as soon as she reached it, she got a glimpse of House in the lobby. He was wearing his jacket, signing something. He was clearly ready to go home, although it was only 3.30.

Yep, something was _seriously_ wrong. He had never left early, not since she had told him not to. She decided that whatever the nurse wanted could wait.

She quickly directed towards the lobby, to approach him before it was too late.

"House!" she called, watching him leave pretending he hadn't heard her. She speeded up her pace, although there was no real need to: he was limping.

"House, where are you going?!" she asked, catching up with him.

"Home. See you tomorrow" he said, without even turning back, nor stopping his walk.

Before he could go much further, she grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around.

"What is going on?" she asked again, in a whisper this time. She didn't want the whole lobby to hear what they were saying to each other. It would have done more harm than good anyway: House was still a very proud man.

He freed himself from her grasp on his arm, but didn't walk away. She was glad for that.

"My case is over. There's no reason why I should stay here" he replied flatly.

Cuddy sighed. She knew there was more. Usually, after he solved a case, he would still stick around at the hospital, in the cafeteria, with Wilson, or recently even with her. He would sit on her couch and play stupid games on his phone, randomly talk to her, or just watch some TV on the new little flat screen tv she had in her office. Once, she had pointed out that there was a bigger one in the doctors lounge, and he had answered that it was easier to annoy her if they were in the same room. She had shook her head, pretending to be annoyed, and he had smirked, pretending to believe he had told the truth, that he didn't just enjoy her company.

She was still thinking of how to ask the next question, but he didn't give her enough time.

"See ya" he said with a fake smile, and walked away.

She couldn't let him go like that.

"It's 3.30, you can't leave!" she shouted, hoping that it was enough to stop him, to make him turn around and talk to her.

He did stop, and turned around, but not to do what she expected.

He shot her a dark look, a mix between hurt and disappointed.

"Wanna fire me? Go ahead. I don't care" he said shrugging. Then resumed his walk, until he was out of sight.

Cuddy was too shocked to run after him. She stood there, frozen, for a few seconds, reflecting on what could be so wrong to make him pronounce those words. She had no intention to fire him. Once she had said that she would have if he had left early, but now she just couldn't. Too many things had happened since that day. She wasn't serious when a few seconds earlier she had told him he couldn't leave because it was just 3.30, but he didn't know that. For all he knew, she could have been serious. So whatever it was, this thing that was haunting him, it was so bad that it made him risk his job.

After she checked with the nurse in the clinic, the one that had paged her in the first place, Cuddy was going to get back to her paperwork, when someone poked on her shoulder. It was Chase.

"Is House with you?" he asked.

Cuddy frowned.

"He… went home. Ten minutes ago. Said he solved the case" she replied, folding her arms to her chest.

Chase mimicked her position, a puzzled look on his face.

"We didn't. The patients are dead. Both of them… but we still don't know what was wrong with them" he replied.

"What? Two patients? The file I gave you was only about one person"

"The sister got sick a day later with partially similar symptoms… we thought it was environmental and treated them both for ammonia poisoning. For him it was too late, he died last night… but for some reasons she died too, a couple of hours ago" he explained.

"So she had something else" Cuddy concluded.

Chase nodded.

"Well, I'll try to call House… the family has agreed to the autopsy. Thanks anyway" he said, taking out his phone from his coat pocket, then he walked away.

Cuddy put a hand in her hair. So she knew now why House was in such a bad mood today. He could become very grumpy when he lost a patient, but now he had lost two, and misdiagnosed one of them for sure, possibly the other one too.

That, however, didn't explain the cane.

A part of her wanted to leave him alone. Just because lately he had been exceptionally nice and friendly (if you could say that of him) especially with her, it didn't mean that he wasn't allowed to have his bad moments. There always was a dark side of him that would never go away.

Another part of her, though, was deeply worried. What if there was more than just dead patients? What if he was hiding something?

She decided she didn't want to leave him alone, not when he may have needed her. He would never admit this, but sometimes he needed people too.

The first thing she did, when she sat at her office desk again, was to call her babysitter to tell her that she needed to work overtime that evening.

Then, for the following two hours, Cuddy focused on her paperwork, her heart jumping in her chest every time she heard her phone vibrate. At every text, or call, she hoped it was House, but it was never him.

So, when all the things for the following morning were ready, she left her office and took her car. As she had originally planned (she knew he wasn't going to call her), she drove to House's apartment.

She was slightly relieved when, leaning on his door, she could hear a piano melody coming from the inside. For a moment, she was tempted to just go home and maybe talk to him tomorrow, but then she reconsidered it. She thought again about how he treated her in his office, earlier that day, o how he limped, or how he said he didn't care if she fired him.

She knocked, and in a matter of seconds, she heard the music stop, and House appeared in front of her. She couldn't help noticing how his eyes were red-rimmed, with pronounced bags under them. She hadn't noticed that before.

"Am I fired?" he asked.

"No… I just…"

"Okay… then why are you here?" he interrupted her, still not letting her inside. His mood hadn't improved much.

"I just wanted to see if everything's okay" she replied honestly.

"I'm fine, thanks for stopping by. Goodbye" he said flatly, starting to close the door.

She had to push with a hand against it, to avoid being shut out.

"House please! What's going on?" she asked, sounding much more pleading than she would have wished.

"I'm fine, I just want to be alone! What is not clear about that?"

Cuddy knew this part of him. He was trying to shut her out, both physically and emotionally. Clearly, the fact that he had lost two patients in the last 48 hours was getting to him harder than she thought. She looked up to meet his blue eyes. Once, years ago, she would have just given up and left. But right now she knew they could connect. She knew she could help him.

"Chase told me about your patients" she said softly "I'm just concerned, that's all"

"You don't have to be. I'm fine. I just need some time alone" he repeated, but this time without shutting the door. That gave her courage to try one more time.

"Please" she said "let me in"

She meant it in all the possible ways, and she knew he would understand it too.

He lowered his head and sighed. Another thing he knew was that she wasn't going to leave anytime soon, so he figured he could let her stay for a few minutes, just to show her he was really fine, and then she would go away.

"I guess I can be alone with you here" he finally said, moving aside to let her in. She smiled.

"I was playing something" he added, walking towards his piano.

She had a look around. Everything seemed fine. She started thinking that maybe she had imagined everything, maybe all he needed was really some time for himself.

They sat together on the piano bench. Cuddy watched him as his fingers ran over the white keys, as to caress them, and started pressing some of them, a sweet melody arising.

He was good at this. She was never an expert of music, nor an enthusiast, but she always enjoyed listening to him, just because it was his mind and his hands creating the tune.

She turned to look at him, how absorbed he was in the atmosphere, the way his whole body seemed to dance. He was incredible. She closed her eyes, letting the tension inside her body flow away with the notes he was playing.

It lasted a couple of minutes, and she was actually disappointed when she realized the music was over and she had to get back to reality.

"Not my best piece. It just helps me… unwind" he said.

"I liked it"

They just looked at each other for a few seconds.

She was about to go, he looked fine, she even wanted to apologize for the intrusion, when suddenly her gaze fell on his legs.

His hand was on his right thigh, rubbing delicately. He didn't even seem to notice.

It was a thing she had seen him doing thousands and thousands of times, when he was in pain, when he had his true leg.

The only explanation she could find was that he was experiencing phantom limb, which so many months after the amputation was an extremely uncommon phenomenon. She deducted one thing: the sensation had to be triggered by something.

Maybe he wasn't so fine after all.

"You seem in pain" she said softly.

House stood up abruptly, removing his hand from his thigh. "I'm fine"

She followed him with her eyes as he walked to the couch, when she saw something she was hoping she would never have to see again.

There, hidden between two cushions, she could spot a too familiar orange pill bottle. Her heart wrenched in her chest. Ibuprofen didn't come in those containers.


	11. Wonderwall (pt2)

_Here I am with part 2 :) thanks to all of you who still read this! _

_This time, be aware of some angst, some more drama, but also some cuteness. I really want them to connect on a deeper level before making them connect on a physical level or putting them in a relationship. We will get there, but... not yet. I hope you understand what I mean!_

_Also, small question to all of you: yes or no to some smut? I know I rated this T, so I would like to know how you'd feel about it. _

_Next update will be at the end of next week, probably Friday. _

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**VIII. Wonderwall (pt. 2)**

_There, hidden between two cushions, she could spot a too familiar orange pill bottle. Her heart wrenched in her chest. Ibuprofen didn't come in those containers. _

"What… what is that?" she stammered.

"What is what?" he asked, sitting on the couch and pretending not to know what she was referring to.

But she knew he knew. He was looking down.

She sat next to him.

"The pills" she replied, nodding at the orange container. He had almost sat on it, but she could still see it. Much to her surprise, he didn't deny anymore.

"I didn't take them yet" he said, taking the small bottle and putting it in her hand.

As she read the label, she could feel her eyes tear up.

"Amphetamines?...Why?"

"Because I work better on drugs"

A lump formed in her throat as she heard his words.

"What are you even talking about?" she asked, wishing this was all a nightmare. He was fine. He was clean. He was pain free. She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Seriously Cuddy?! Is that a real question?!" he snapped, suddenly looking at her, his eyes full of pain, "do you know how many patients I've lost since the amputation? Eight!"

"You… You've saved many more, you…."

"I needed help" he cut her off "almost every time, I needed a hint. You know, Chase has actually solved a few cases himself, you should make _him_ Head of the department… and you! Even _you_ could diagnose that baby, and I couldn't!"

"I got there before you just because I was treating an adult patient with that syndrome in Pittsburgh" she replied, trying to ignore the fact that he had just diminished her value as a doctor "and Chase is great because he learned from you! He's great indeed, but _you _are the genius, you…"

"Bullshit. I _was_ a genius. Now I'm just average"

During the last sentence, the tone of his voice had changed from angry to resigned. He was staring at his feet again now. She shifted closer to him, desperately wanting to slap him or hug him or do whatever it took to make him think again.

"I've been awake for two days" he said after a few seconds of silence "I've been taking Modafinil since yesterday morning to stay awake, to stay focused on the case… it didn't work. I still couldn't solve it. Last time it worked"

She was shocked, a bit because she thought she should have noticed (_last time?_ This wasn't the first time he took drugs to improve concentration?), and a bit because he seemed to have no idea of how dangerous his behavior was. Modafinil was as dangerous as Ibuprofen, if used in the proper way. But House didn't do proper ways. Plus, he took the bike every day to go to the hospital. He could have dozed off and killed someone, himself first.

But at least, she could now explain his leg. Chemically induced insomnia could provoke hallucinating phenomena, including phantom limb.

"I thought I needed something stronger, hence the amphetamines" he continued.

"You didn't take them though"

"Not yet. I'm going to start tonight… the autopsy is tomorrow. I think I need a little boost. And if it works… well, then I've found a new friend" he concluded.

It hurt so hard to hear him talk like that. She couldn't believe how he always found a way to destroy himself. He was free from pain, he could do everything he wanted, and instead he found a way back to drugs again. Amphetamines were highly addictive, and also pretty dangerous for someone with a history of drug abuse.

She rolled the little orange bottle in her hand, thinking of something she could do to help him. The fact that he still hadn't taken any meant he knew too what being on amphetamines entailed.

"Now that you found out how I'm doing, feel free to go home" he said, nodding at the door. In that moment, she realized this was the reason he didn't want to let her in in the first place. He didn't want her to know. He was afraid of losing her again.

Cuddy threw him the container. He caught it.

"I'm leaving now" she started saying softly, their eyes meeting "but I want you to know that I'm not leaving you. I don't care if you relapse… I'm going to stay at your side anyway. I made that mistake once, I'm not repeating it. It's your choice, it's your life… no matter what you do, you can count on me… nothing is going to change between us… and when you think it's time, I'll help you detox… I'm here. I'm leaving now, but I'm not _leaving_"

With that, she stood up and walked towards the door. He stayed there, not even turning to follow her with his eyes. He just stared at the pill bottle in his hands, her words running through his head.

Right when she put her hand on the doorknob, she realized there was something else she needed to say.

"But just so you know…" she said, a smirk forming on her lips "I think you can do better"

These last words sent a shiver down his spine.

"I think you can do better than this… you already did… Well, goodbye" she concluded, then he heard the sound of his door opening and closing.

He was still sitting on his couch, his heart beating hard in his chest, his eyes staring in front of him.

For years, every single person he met, even his closest friends, even Wilson, even Cuddy herself, they always expected him to fail, to make mistakes, to screw things up.

But she believed in him now.

He thought again about her choice of words. He remembered the evening she had decided to break up with him like it happened yesterday.

"_I can do better"_

"_I don't think you can"_

These were some of the things they had said to each other that time.

But now she did. Now she thought he could do better.

A half smile appeared on his lips.

* * *

Cuddy was sitting on her couch, reading a new document, and was actually surprised when she heard a knock on her office door. She had explicitly told her assistant that she didn't want to be disturbed, unless it was a matter of life or death. She had even turned down the blinders, so that people would think she wasn't there. The fact was that after the board meeting that morning, she thought she was done with paperwork for at least a couple of days. Instead, she received a whole new document, about 150 pages long, about safety for hospital employees, that she needed to read and learn, and then present it to the Departments. She had thought she could have done it that afternoon, since she had no other previously set appointments, but apparently she was needed for a life and death matter. As soon as the door opened, she realized it was just House. She was relieved to see him. After what happened the day before in his apartment, he hadn't called or texted her anymore. She smiled gently at him. However, her smile faded as he walked into the room and she could see he still had red-rimmed eyes, pronounced bags, and his cane. Whatever he had done in the previous hours, didn't involve a full night of sleep.

"He really had ammonia poisoning. She had hepatic encephalopathy" he stated, sinking down on the couch next to her, dropping his cane to the floor.

"So the fact that they got sick together was a coincidence"

"Oddly enough, yep"

She wanted to tell him that there was no way he could have diagnosed this, because this was not just a zebra, this was an unicorn, but she didn't. She went for a softer approach.

"You managed to solve the puzzle eventually"

He looked at her, understanding what she actually wanted to know. He shoved his hand in his pocket, and pulled out the amphetamines pill bottle.

"I didn't take them" he said, putting the orange container on the coffee table in front of them. "It was only my mind… and the Modafinil"

She expected a rush of excitement in her body at the news that he wasn't back on drugs, she expected to be happy for him and proud of his choice. She expected to feel surprised.

Instead, she felt like she had won a bet, because, as she realized, deep inside her she had known this all along. She knew he wasn't going to take the amphetamines, because she knew he was stronger than that. The fact that he was still clean was not a surprise, it was the expected result.

"You're not surprised" he added a few seconds later, smirking. He too knew what it meant. When she had told him she believed in him she wasn't lying, she wasn't saying that to make him feel better. She meant it. She truly, deeply believed that he wasn't going to screw himself up again. She _knew_ it.

"I'm… not surprised" she confirmed, smiling back at him.

They let the awareness of what this meant sink down on them.

"Well, I think I'm going home now. Get some rest" he announced a few seconds later, interrupting the deep moment.

She shook her head, chuckling. "Oh, I don't think so"

"What? Why not?"

"I'm not letting you take your bike. It's already been dangerous enough"

"But moooom" he whined "Modafinil is harmless!"

"I know it is, but you've been awake for more than 48 hours. The chances of you dozing off while driving are too high"

"But…"

"It's non-negotiable" she interrupted him "you're staying here until five, then someone is driving you home and back here tomorrow morning"

House pouted and folded his arms, like a child.

"Then I'm just going to stay _here_ and annoy you" he said, shrugging.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. When she said "here" she meant in general in the hospital, not necessarily in her office. But this was House after all, and juvenile was still his second name.

Not that she minded. Yes, she did want to be alone to finish her task faster, but his presence was fine. Thinking of some of the words he had said yesterday, _she could be alone with him too._

He got the remote and turned on the TV, loud but not loud enough to actually prevent her from working.

They sat together on the couch, in silence, for a while.

She didn't complain when he suddenly leaned his head on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she asked, smirking.

"I hate this couch, it's made of stone" was his grumpy answer.

She laughed, then she went back to her document.

Some more time later, she couldn't quantify it, he shifted again. This time, he ended up lying down with his head resting on her lap, his legs tucked up in a weird fetal position.

"Was my shoulder uncomfortable too?" she asked ironically.

"My neck was starting to ache" he replied, still pretending to be serious.

She laughed once more.

Without looking away from her papers, she let one of her hands pat his upper back delicately. Slowly, the patting became a gentle rub. She started caressing him very lightly, her fingers dancing first on his shoulders, then on the exposed skin of his neck. Since he didn't slap her hand away, she reached his short hair, massaged his scalp, lightly scratching with her pads. She swore she heard a frustrated sigh coming from him when she removed her hand for a few seconds to turn the page.

They remained like that for a while, the only sound was the one coming from the TV. She never really looked away from her document, but her fingertips kept their motion going, mainly working on his head, but also grazing his forehead or the soft skin behind his ear.

At some point, she glanced down at him. His eyes were closed. She couldn't tell if he'd fallen asleep or if he was just relaxing, but he looked peaceful. Sometimes he had these kind of moments, where he was just a big baby. They were rare but when it happened, it was hard to believe he was actually an obnoxious ass the 99% of the time. She smiled to herself, then resumed both her reading and the soothing motion of her fingers.

When she heard her phone vibrate on the coffee table, several minutes later, she tried to reach it without moving too much, but with his weight on her legs it was pretty hard. He reached it with his hand and handed it to her, his eyes still closed.

"Thanks" she whispered.

"Whatever"

She put down her papers, and unlocked her phone. It was a text from Wilson.

_I know you're busy, but maybe a coffee? I just had a very annoying patient._

Cuddy smiled.

_Actually I'm busier than you think... __Wanna come over for dinner tonight instead?_

_Sure! :)_

_Let's say 7?_

_All right, thanks! See you later_

She sent the thumbs up emoji, then she put down her phone on the couch next to her.

"Now do it right again" House muttered. He swore it had sounded much more like an order when he had thought it in his head.

She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked, sliding her fingers among his hair again while picking up the reading of her document from where she had left off.

She couldn't say how long they stayed like that. She just knew she was way past page 100 when she felt his muscles twitching once, then twice.

She glanced down at him again. At that point, she was pretty sure he was asleep, or at least not fully awake. With her index finger, she traced the shape of the bald spot behind his head. He would never admit it, but it was pretty visible now, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. She bit her lip, remembering the very first time she had put her hands in his hair, almost thirty years ago, how soft his curls felt back then. However, although the signs of aging were getting more and more evident on him year after year, she still found him handsome. She didn't know if it was because of his piercing blue eyes, or his muscular tall body, or simply the emotional connection they formed during the years, but she still liked him. Sometimes, even after all the things that happened, she felt attracted to him.

She had to admit to herself that there was another reason why she invited Wilson over, other than the fact that both she and Rachel enjoyed his company. She needed his help to sort out a few things that were going on in her head, and more importantly, in her heart.

Suddenly, her office phone started ringing loudly, interrupting the quiet.

House jolted awake and immediately sat up, a confused look on his face.

"Did I… fall asleep?" he asked, bringing his hand to his lips to make sure he didn't drool too.

Cuddy chuckled.

"I think so, yeah" she replied, as she reached her desk to answer the phone.

He waited for her to end the short conversation, then he headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, once she hung up.

"I think I'm going to my office and punch the wall… you know, to feel like a man again. Then I'll probably see if Wilson feels like talking about cars and sport with me" he answered, then he left.

He came back two minutes later to get his cane. She was happy to see he had forgotten it in her office, because it meant the phantom limb was gone. As a matter of fact, he only picked it up, but didn't use it.

She smiled to herself, finally resuming her reading.

* * *

During their dinner, Cuddy and Wilson mainly listened to Rachel talking about her things, like how the week in Hawaii was, or which games she played with her friends, or how much she enjoyed being on vacation. They also talked about hospital gossip, books they'd been reading, random funny things that happened to them, in general child-friendly topics. Then, after Rachel left the table to go watch some TV, they got to more serious stuff.

Wilson updated Cuddy on his new girlfriend, who happened to be Jane Watson, the woman he had met at the Gala party months ago. She worked in an Applied Physics Lab in Trenton, mainly doing research, which was the reason why she had left England one year ago, after spending there her whole life. She was widowed, her husband died in a car accident four years ago, and had two kids: 9-year-old Emily, who lived in Trenton with her mom, and 19-year-old Stephen, who decided to remain in the UK after he was accepted at Oxford University to study Law. While Emily was born from Jane's dead husband, Stephen was conceived during a one-night-stand when she was still in college.

Cuddy was amazed in hearing this. This woman had managed to raise a son alone for the most part, _and _become a researcher in Applied Physics at the same time. She decided she wanted to meet her one day. She was also happy to see Wilson happy and in love. He deserved this. He told her he was going to meet both Jane's kids for the first time that Sunday (apparently Stephen was in the US to visit his family during summer break), and Cuddy was so excited for him. When a woman decided to introduce her new boyfriend to her kids, it meant that she was really serious about the relationship.

"So, what about you and House?" Wilson asked after a while.

Cuddy frowned.

"How do you know I have something to say?" she asked.

"Because I know you and I know him. Also because I have eyes" he replied.

Cuddy told him everything that happened in the last months, from that time when they talked after the Gala party to what happened earlier that afternoon. Wilson listened carefully to her, joking from time to time with things like "you should have taken a pic of him, so that I could've blackmailed him" or "I'm so going to mock him for that".

"Are you in love with him?" he asked eventually.

"I don't know, James" was her honest reply "I have… feelings for him. I care about him. I rely on him, and I'm pretty sure he relies on me too, but… I don't know"

She leaned her forehead on her hand.

"Just don't hurt him, please" Wilson said calmly.

"What?"

"It's fine if you don't love him, just… don't hurt him. Please. He loves you"

Cuddy's mouth fell agape at his words. House loved her?

"He… loves me?" she asked, incredulous.

"Of course he does" he replied, looking at her as she had just reinvented the wheel, "I doubt he ever stopped"

She couldn't believe it. She knew House was fond of her, like she was fond of him, but she thought he had moved on in all these years.

Well, to be honest, she _had_ moved on too, and now here she was, still wondering about her feelings for him.

She thought of all the things that happened so far, since she was back to Princeton, how they slowly reconnected, how they got close again. She wondered if they would remain just close friends, or if there was something more. Their relationship had already failed once. Was it worth it to give it another chance? Did she really want it? Would it really be so different this time?

Even after Wilson left, she kept thinking about his words, and her own feelings, until sleep took over.


	12. Phainetai Moi

_Here's chapter 9 for you :) it's a bit of a transition chapter, but it's also pretty important. The title is taken from one of my favorite poems, Fragment 31 of Sappho, it's Ancient Greek and it literally means "it seems to me"._

_Just so you know, I'm almost done writing the last chapter of the story, so it means that you'll have to wait less for the next updates, as almost everything is written already. Next chapter probably on Tuesday? _

_Enjoy, and thanks for your support :)_

* * *

**IX. Phainetai Moi**

When he walked into Cuddy's office that morning, House didn't really have a purpose. He just wanted to waste some time before doing some of the clinic hours he had left behind in the past weeks.

"What's up?" House asked opening the door.

However, he was pretty surprised when he saw Wilson there, sitting at the desk across her. As soon as they heard him, they interrupted their conversation. They had that look on their faces of someone who has just been caught red-handed.

"Hey House" they said together.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Wilson.

"I'm… having a conversation with my friend" he replied, clearly uncomfortable. God, he was such a bad liar.

House glanced up at Cuddy.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the two of them having a nice friendly talk, but he sensed this wasn't just that. Judging by the light blush on her cheeks, he assumed he was right.

"So I guess there's nothing wrong if I join in" House said, sitting down on the free chair next to Wilson.

There was a moment of silence, further proof that there was really something going on.

"I was just asking James if he could watch Rachel on Saturday night" Cuddy said.

Maybe it was the truth, but there was more to it and he was determined to find out what. "I can babysit too" House stated, folding his arms.

He saw her and Wilson exchanging understanding looks, as if they were sharing a secret, then Wilson stood up.

"Well, I think I'll get back to my patients now" he said with a fake smile "see you later"

With that, he left the office, leaving House and Cuddy alone.

"What's going on?" he asked, peering at her through narrowed eyes.

"I was planning to tell you this at lunch…" she started, visibly embarrassed "I asked Wilson to babysit on Saturday because… well, I have… I'm…"

She took a deep breath before finishing the sentence.

"I'm going out with an old friend… a _male_ one"

House suddenly felt like a huge weight had been dropped on his chest.

"A date?"

He couldn't believe she was going to date someone else.

Well, not that she was dating _him_. Their relationship had turned out to be more of a friendly kind, so he really had no right to say anything. Still, he always hoped there was still a chance for them, but apparently he was wrong.

"It's not a real date…" she added "it's just an old friend of mine… from high school, you know… he just…"

"It's fine" he interrupted her.

Those words took her by surprise. Was he really fine with that?

"So can I babysit? Wilson and I together are great entertainers" he continued.

Cuddy was left speechless by the sudden change of topic, but considered his question anyway. Well, he was right. The two of them made a great team when it came to babysitting her daughter. Once, after her mom died, she went on a sisters night out with Julia, and left Rachel with both of them. When she got home, way past eleven, she witnessed the most unlikely scenario. The three of them were in the living room, standing in front of the TV, singing out "Let it go" from the Frozen soundtrack. Rachel was wearing her Elsa costume, wig included, and had somehow managed to tie Wilson's short hair in two extremely tiny pigtails (he was probably supposed to be Anna), while House had a carrot on his forehead, tied up with some twine that went all around his head (he was probably Olaf, Cuddy guessed). Anyway, it was an extremely cute scene, and she wished she had taken a picture.

Afterwards, however, came the downside. Rachel, who was already up way past her bedtime, was super awake and hyperactive, and it took Cuddy almost one hour to convince her to go to bed, and another one to actually get her to fall asleep. So that was why she rarely asked House and Wilson to babysit together. She usually picked one of them, depending on how busy they were. Rachel preferred their company much more than Julia's (and Cuddy, honestly, although she deeply loved her sister, couldn't really blame her daughter).

That day, however, she felt like making an exception to the rule.

"Sure" she replied eventually "sounds like a good idea"

He nodded. He thought this news would have made him much happier than it actually did.

He stood up and directed towards the door, but she called him back.

"Do you want… to talk about something?" she asked cautiously.

He hesitated for a second, but then shook his head.

Cuddy watched him as he closed the door after leaving.

She sighed. She hadn't completely lied to him, her date wasn't officially a date. An old friend of hers had befriended her on Facebook, about ten days ago, they started chatting, occasionally flirting, and then he invited her out for dinner, but the word "date" never actually came up.

She thought there would be nothing wrong in accepting. Not that she was actually interested in him, it was just a casual night out.

For some reasons, she wished House never had to know, not like that anyway. She wished he would have let her explain better. He loved her, and she didn't want to hurt him. Plus, she still wasn't completely sure about her feelings either. She had thought about that long and hard in these past weeks, but she never came to a definite conclusion. However, that wasn't his fault. It was her, never being sure of what to do next.

She went back to her work, deciding that she was going to talk to House during lunch break.

She still didn't know she wouldn't have the chance to do so.

* * *

House was sitting alone in the cafeteria when he saw Cuddy approaching, holding a folder in her hands. He would have thought it was another case, but she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"Please, take a look at this" she said, putting the folder on the table.

He opened it.

"Discreetly" she added. He gave her a quizzical look, before glancing through it.

"Fever, headache, fatigue, nausea…" he read aloud. Then glanced back at her "this guy has the flu"

"Read all of it" she prompted him. She looked so serious she was starting to worry him.

"Joint pain, abdominal pain…" he continued, when suddenly in the list of symptoms something caught his attentions "diarrhea… with presence of blood…"

Cuddy pointed a finger where it said "general history". He noticed her arm was shaking slightly.

He read again.

"Recently back from a trip… to West Africa…" he read, the words assuming a whole new meaning every second.

He stared at her. Now he knew why she looked so worried. She turned around and walked away. He too figured the cafeteria at lunchtime was not the right place to talk about it, and he followed her. They ended up inside a supply closet.

Her eyes met his.

"It's Ebola, isn't it?" she asked.

House had thought the same, but rationally he knew this could be a lot of other things.

"It could be, yes… but there are other options" he replied "let me run a differential"

She nodded, handing him the file. However, she was still visibly concerned.

Instinctively, as if all the resentment he felt towards her for the fact that she was dating another guy had faded away, he took her hand and squeezed it.

"Let's not freak out just yet" he whispered.

She nodded again, and he went back to the cafeteria, leaving her alone in the closet.

Asking for House's opinion had been her first instinct after the ER had paged her for this emergency. She had suddenly forgotten everything else that was going on between them, and just felt the need to talk to him. The fact that he was a specialist in infectious diseases certainly played a big role in this, but it wasn't all of it. It wasn't about him being able to understand the disease, it was more about him being able to understand _her._

Cuddy was going to leave the closet, when he came back.

"Did you… came in contact with the patient's…?"

"No" she promptly replied "I didn't see him. I was paged as soon as the ER nurses heard the symptoms and history, but I didn't even meet him"

"Good" he said, nodding. Then he left again.

Despite the situation, she couldn't help smiling. He hadn't asked if _someone _came in contact with the patient's body fluids. He had asked if _she_ did so. He was concerned for her.

She left the closet, thinking of what the next step could be.

* * *

House's team had run the differential, and promptly excluded malaria, typhoid fever, meningitis, shigellosis, plague and cholera. There were still other plausible options, but as the hours went by, it became more and more evident that it was really what it looked like. They started treating the patient's symptoms, as in this specific case, testing his blood was the most reliable way to confirm the diagnosis of EVD, Ebola Virus Disease.

The following day, as House walked into the hospital, he felt something was different. The place, both the lobby and the clinic, were unusually quiet.

He headed to Cuddy's office. She was sitting at her desk, with her head in her hands. Something was wrong.

"Has everybody hemorrhaged to death already?" he asked, in a weak attempt at cheering her up.

She looked up, but didn't smile.

"Someone called the press yesterday" she stated in a low voice, nodding at a newspaper on her desk.

He sat on a chair in front of her. It was a popular local newspaper, and he could clearly see the big title on the first page.

_EBOLA IS BACK_

_New potential case arrived yesterday at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, diagnosis still to confirm _

He read quickly through the article: it mentioned everywhere how dangerous the virus was, how many people it had already killed, the fact that there still was no 100% effective treatment, plus it said that the patient that arrived at the hospital wasn't diagnosed yet and had been left waiting "for hours on a ER bed, with no protection". That was why there were way less people around that morning: most of them had read the article and freaked out, and decided that PPTH wasn't a safe place anymore. He hated the media.

"We're screwed" Cuddy said.

House knew she was right, people were too easily influenced.

"What are you planning to do?" he asked.

"I've… no idea" she replied, leaning her forehead on one hand again.

"You could call the press again. Release an interview, say that the situation is under control. Usual stuff"

"Yeah, I… I will" she said, but she didn't sound so sure "what are the chances that this is really EVD?"

"High" he answered. He didn't even have to give her the exact number. She understood immediately what he meant, and it scared her. In so many years as Dean of Medicine, she never had to face such a situation. This could be just temporary thing, one that lasted a few days, but in case the diagnosis was confirmed, and they started losing patients, then that was a real issue.

She wanted to find whoever it was that called the press and fire them. She would have called the press herself anyway eventually, once the test results came back, and everything was certain, but not now. Now it was too early.

"People are morons" she stated.

"Hey, that's my line" he said, pretending to be upset.

She smirked.

He reached across the desk and, once again, took her hand in his.

"We'll think of something" he murmured, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She loved knowing that she wasn't alone in this.

She squeezed back.

* * *

In the following couple of days, the situation didn't improve, but didn't even get worse. There were more newspaper articles, then TV services, even on national channels. Cuddy managed to release a couple of interviews, as House had suggested, telling everyone that there was no need to freak out and that everything was under control. She was supposed to contact the journalists again once she knew if the patient tested positive or negative.

House was with her the whole time. There wasn't much else he could do anyway. The blood samples were sent to a lab that was equipped to treat this kind of bio-hazard material, so all he could do was wait and adjust the patient's medication (or tell his fellows to do so). So he just stuck around with Cuddy. She was an incredibly strong woman, and she would never show that she was concerned, or stressed.

But he knew better, so he tried to be around as much as possible, in case she needed him, or wanted him. And sometimes she did, even if it was just to rent about the whole thing.

When the results of the blood test came back, however, House received a big surprise.

That morning, Cuddy walked into his office, and found him lying on the floor, with his legs towards the door, staring at the ceiling.

"What are you doing down there?" she asked.

"The results came back. Negative" he replied flatly, not even sitting up "in that guy's blood there's no trace of Ebolavirus"

Cuddy was actually happy of this, but she could understand that for him it was another failure. After that time where he lost both patients at once, almost a month earlier, he always managed to solve all his cases, but that didn't mean he wasn't counting anymore.

She lay down next to him, with her head close to his but with her legs towards the windows.

As he saw what she was doing, he turned on his side, to face her. She did the same. Their eyes met, only a few inches apart.

"What is it then?" she asked softly.

"Still an hemorrhagic fever, but not EVD" he answered.

"As far as the treatment is concerned, it doesn't change much" she said.

He knew it too. None of the hemorrhagic fevers known had an effective treatment, but this wasn't about the treatment. He wanted to solve the puzzle.

She understood that just looking in his eyes.

"What's the next step?" she asked.

"We start over. We recollect the patient history, see if something has slipped" he replied "we already know it's not Marburg, or it would have showed on the Ebola test"

Cuddy nodded. She didn't know why he was running a sort of differential with her, instead of his fellows. She had no real competence in infectious diseases. But if it was what he needed, then she would listen to him.

"It's also not Rift Valley fever, or he would be doing much better than he actually is" he continued "and we can exclude Omsk hemorrhagic fever and Kyasanur Forest fever, because he's been to Africa, not Asia"

He looked so incredibly focused. She realized he wasn't running a differential. He was thinking aloud. Once again, he was being alone with her there.

"It's hardly Crimean-Congo fever, he's got no tick bites" he added.

"What's left?" she asked.

"It could be Hantavirus, it would be too soon to see the renal involvement… the other options are dengue fever, Lassa fever, and Lujo virus" he replied.

She watched him as he got up and left the room. She didn't follow him. She knew there was no need to.

* * *

It turned out to be Lassa fever. It didn't even take long to figure out. Once the main suspect, Ebola, had been ruled out, House knew exactly which question to ask to find out which of the remaining they were fighting.

Cuddy was the first person he shared the news with, not only because of her role in the whole thing, but mainly because it had been his first instinct, talking to her. It felt like the most normal thing in the world.

She saw this in his eyes. He wasn't just sharing a piece of information, he was sharing his own success, a thing that made him proud of himself. She knew how much this meant. Sharing pain could be hard, but sharing a joy could take even more courage. She caressed his cheek tenderly with her hand, thinking he was pretty amazing.

Later, as promised, she called the press to let them know they had the final diagnosis (it wasn't completely sure yet, they still needed to run the test, but she trusted House enough). They organized a press conference for that same afternoon. She was a bit nervous about it.

"How do I look?" she asked House. They were in her private bathroom, and she had just finished adjusting her makeup. Going on TV was a big thing.

"Pretty. Not as pretty as me though" he cracked. He could see how tense she was.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. _Are you with me?_

He squeezed back. _I am._

However, everything went just fine.

House watched Cuddy as she spoke on the stage of the hospital auditorium, surrounded by microphones, cameras and recorders. She was smiling, confidently, as if the past days were just a nightmare and she now had all the power in her hands again. Which was true.

"The final diagnosis was made by our great diagnostician, Dr. Gregory House, who is looking forward to answering all of your question regarding the patient and the virus" she said at some point.

He rolled his eyes. He had agreed to do this, but _looking forward _was a bit of an exaggeration.

As he took her place on the stage, he was bombarded with questions. He answered every single one of them with patience and professionalism, trying to put the hospital in best light, as she had requested.

"How contagious is this virus? Should we all fear a new outbreak?" a journalist asked.

House glanced at the audience, and met Cuddy's eyes. He grinned.

"It's totally harmless!" he replied "the symptoms are very similar to the ones caused by Ebolavirus, but unlike it, Lassa fever is only spread from mice to humans. Human-to-human diffusion is extremely rare"

After the conference was over, while all the audience and the journalists were leaving, Cuddy went to talk to House.

"You lied to that journalist. Lassa fever and EVD transmit among humans in the same way" she said.

"Oh… did I say the opposite? I must have misheard the question" he replied ironically.

She laughed.

"No one will ever find out" he added "we told people in thousands of different ways that EVD is only transmitted through contaminated body fluids, and they still panicked when they found out we had a case. I doubt anyone is going to google Lassa fever tonight… people are morons"

She bit her lower lip, as she realized what he had done. He had lied about this so that people could think of PPTH as a safe place again. He had done it for the sake of the hospital.

He had done it for _her_.

"I'm going to see Wilson now… tonight is All-you-can-eat night at Toby's Grill" he said, then he walked past her towards the exit door.

She followed him with her gaze, smiling, until he was out of sight.

* * *

On Saturday night, Cuddy decided to go out with her old-friend-slash-date anyway.

When she got home, she was prepared for the most extravagant scenario, as it happened last time, but instead, everything looked fine. As she opened the door, she realized the whole house was silent, the only exception being the sound of the TV coming from the living room.

House and Wilson were watching it together, sitting on her couch, while there was no trace of Rachel. Well, it was almost midnight to be honest, but she couldn't believe they had managed to put her to bed at the right time.

As they saw Cuddy walking in, Wilson approached her, while House didn't even look at her.

"So was everything all right?" she asked her friend.

"We had takeaway pizza, then we played card games and then we watched a movie, not Frozen for a change. She fell asleep about half an hour ago. So yeah, I would say everything was all right" he replied.

Well, they didn't put Rachel to bed exactly at her bedtime, but she was impressed anyway.

"How was your… date?" Wilson asked.

"It was… normal" she answered. It was the truth. Jake was always very entertaining, even back in school. They talked about their jobs first (he was an architect), then about their interests, then the talk slowly shifted to old acquaintances, old teachers, old shared memories. It was a nice night, they had fun, they laughed a lot, everything was good. But she wasn't interested in him.

He was great boyfriend material on paper, but she wasn't interested in seeing him again like that. They would probably keep chatting on Facebook from time to time, he would like some of her statuses, she would do the same, but she wanted nothing else. She had suspected it since the moment he asked, but she had wanted to give him a shot anyway. It didn't work.

He had even kissed her after he drove her home, just a peck on her mouth, and she had felt nothing at all.

"You should talk to House" Wilson suggested.

She nodded. She knew, deep inside her, that he was part of the problem. Although they weren't dating, although she wasn't sure of her feelings for him, she knew they had something special. Maybe it wasn't love, not on her side at least, but for sure it was more than just friendship.

He was part of her. He always was probably, but she never felt it as clearly as she was now, not even when they dated. One way or another, they belonged to each other.

After a few minutes, Wilson left.

"Thanks James… see you on Monday" she whispered.

"You know" he said, as he opened the door "I really enjoy babysitting Rachel. She's a great kid, and we get along really well, but… you should see House while he's with her. I rarely see him so happy"

Cuddy smiled at the sweet words. She knew Rachel was very fond of both of them, but when she talked about House she was over the moon, probably because they kind of shared the same mental age.

"Good night"

"Good night Lisa"

Afterwards, she went to the living room, where House was still watching TV.

"Don't worry, I'll leave as soon as the movie is over" he said, as soon as he noticed her standing near the couch.

She decided to change into a cozier outfit, then she took a blanket and sat next to him.

"What are you watching?" she asked.

"The Green Mile" he replied, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Can I watch with you?"

"It's your house"

She shifted a bit closer, although she could sense she wasn't really welcome.

House didn't like this situation. After what happened in the past days, with the Ebola panic, after all they shared, he didn't think she would go on her date anyway. Instead, she did, and he felt disappointed. He rationally knew he had no right to, but the green-eyed monster wouldn't leave him be.

"So how was your date? Was he your _zing_?" he suddenly asked, his voice revealing his jealousy.

At first Cuddy couldn't help smirking at the reference to Hotel Transylvania, but then she focused on the answer. She could hear he was hurt, and she felt terribly bad about it.

"We had fun… We talked, we laughed, usual stuff. But no, he wasn't my zing" she replied softly.

"Did you kiss?" he asked again.

She couldn't understand why he could possibly be interested in these details. Her first instinct was lying to him, to avoid hurting him more. Instead, she decided to tell the truth.

"_He_ kissed me, yeah, but…"

"When are you going to see him again?" he interrupted her.

She sighed.

"Never"

That finally made him look away from the movie, and focus his eyes on her.

"That bad a kiss, huh?" he cracked.

"It's not just that" she admitted.

"I thought you had fun"

"We did, it's just… _he_'s not the man I want to go home to in the evening"

Slowly, they both acknowledged what this meant.

She'd never said it out loud so far, but here it was. She wanted House, she wanted to be with him, she could see herself with no one else.

House thought he had misunderstood. She was there, looking at him with the sweetest expression on her face, and he just couldn't believe it.

He needed her to say something else. He needed her to say just one more word, that would make him understand that she was serious, that she did want a relationship with him again. He needed one little sign, and he would kiss her.

A few seconds passed, and that sign never came. Yep, he definitely had misunderstood.

"Okay" he said eventually, and turned his attention back to the TV.

Cuddy was disappointed, at first. She was expecting him to kiss her.

She realized maybe he wasn't ready to commit to her again, in a relationship. Surprisingly, she was okay with that. What they already had was fine enough. She would wait for him.

Tentatively, she shifted even closer to him and went to lean her head on his shoulder.

He jumped away.

"I said you could watch the movie with me, I didn't say we could cuddle" he pointed out "you kissed another guy less than one hour ago! I still have a pride, you know"

She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Got it" she said, distancing herself from him.

He found himself unhappy about the cold space she had left between them.

Not even two minutes later, she felt his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

She grinned.

"I thought you said…"

"Shut up"

After that, they both remained in silence, watching the movie.

As it came towards the end, House spoke again.

"I'm getting a new leg" he whispered.

She was amazed at how willing he was to share his personal things when they were physically close. She wanted to look up at him, but she knew that would break the spell. She just snuggled a bit closer.

"When?"

"The appointment is Monday afternoon"

"Why are they giving you a new one?"

"It has a microprocessor in the knee… I'll be able to run without looking like a cripple"

Cuddy smiled. His walk had gotten almost perfect with the current knee, although it still looked a bit weird, but running was another thing. He had learned how to run in theory, but his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, plus it required a lot of physical effort, or at least that was what he'd told her. She'd never seen him running. Anyway, for these reasons he never ran.

It seemed things were going to change, now.

"It's great news" she said.

"It is… do you want to come with me?"

She couldn't believe her ears. This could be one of the biggest changes in his life, and he wanted her to be there with him. Her smile grew wider.

"I'd love to"

They remained like that, in silence, a little longer, until the movie was over. Then he stood up, announcing that he was going home.

One last time, she hoped he would ask if he could stay the night. He didn't.

One last time, he hoped she would ask him to stay the night. She didn't.

They wished goodnight to each other, and he left.


	13. Beauty and the Beast

_As promised, here is chapter 10! We're finally getting somewhere ;) __Just so you know, there will be three more updates after this one. Next chapter will come on Saturday or Sunday._

_Also, in case you haven't noticed, I changed the rating from T to M, to be safe. I hope you won't mind!_

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**X. Beauty and the Beast**

On Monday, around lunchtime, House was sitting alone in the cafeteria, eating his burger. He was having lunch with Wilson when the oncologist was paged for an emergency and had to answer, leaving House alone.

He was about to go back to his office as well, when Cuddy joined him, sitting across the table with what looked like a Cesar Salad.

"So… big day today, huh?" she said. She looked visibly excited.

He knew what she was referring to. On Saturday night, he had told her about the fact that he was finally getting a C-leg, and that the appointment with his prosthetist would be this same afternoon. In one of those moments where he had more endorphins than oxygen in his blood, he had also asked her to come with him.

Which, to be completely honest, he regretted.

"Yep" he said, with way less enthusiasm than her.

"What time is the appointment?" she asked.

He briefly considered lying to her, telling her the wrong time, but he just couldn't do that. She would have found out sooner or later, and he didn't lie to her like that anymore. He also couldn't tell her that actually he didn't want her there. How could he? First, she looked so excited. Second, she would ask questions, and he really didn't feel like answering them.

"4 pm" he replied.

She gave him an encouraging smile.

"I'll be there"

He nodded. "Okay"

It didn't take much effort for Cuddy to find out that he wasn't as happy as he was supposed to be in such an occasion. He was getting a new knee, one that would restore his leg function almost completely, like he had a brand new leg of his own, like the infarction never happened, and instead of being over the moon, he looked miserable.

"I think I'll get back to my office now… heard Taub was looking for me" he said suddenly, as he stood up and started walking towards the hallway.

Cuddy, slightly concerned, followed him, leaving her salad on the table.

"House, what's going on?" she asked, approaching him.

"You mean with Taub? Oh, should be nothing, he just wants an opinion on his _male_ _problem_ and…"

"House"

If she wasn't worried before, she definitely was now. When he used irony as a defense mechanism, it mean that there was something he was trying to defend himself from.

He sighed.

"I'm fine, really… I'm just a bit nervous" he replied.

Last time he'd said he was fine, it turned out he wasn't. This time, however, she trusted him. She knew that if he had a big issue, a real one, he would talk to her. So it was likely this really was just nervousness.

"So see you later?" she asked.

"See you later" he repeated, cracking a smile.

As soon as she was back to the cafeteria, he headed towards the elevators, but not to go to his own office. He needed to talk to Wilson first.

House waited for his friend in his office, glancing distractedly over a few patient files he found on the desk.

"What are you doing here?" Wilson asked, as he opened the door and saw his office wasn't empty.

"I need you to keep Cuddy away from my appointment with the prosthetist today"

Wilson gave him a puzzled look.

"Is this 2010? Why do you want to play games with her?" he asked.

"On Saturday I told her she could come, but it was a mistake"

"Then gently tell her you changed your mind"

House shook his head. "I can't"

"Why not?... What happened? You two seemed to get along just fine"

House sighed. It would have been too hard to explain why he had to do this alone. He just didn't want Cuddy to see him at his weakest. So far, she had always seen a decent side of him. She wasn't there during the first period after the surgery, when he couldn't even stand, when he would almost cry in pain and frustration during physical therapy, when he couldn't even take care of his own most basic needs. One time, the first night back home after being discharged from the hospital, he peed all over himself in a failed attempt to reach the bathroom in time. He had to call Wilson to help him stand up and clean the mess (then, the following day, he hired a nurse).

For some reason, with Wilson it was different. He was his best friend, and they had seen each other through everything. But Cuddy? She had always seen the good results. The only time she had got a glimpse of his real physical struggle was that one night in his apartment, when he told her about the amputation.

That night she had seen him weak, physically vulnerable, she had seen the gimp he really was behind the steel and the technology of his prosthesis. That night remained one of the most humiliating moment in his entire life. He never wanted her to see him like that again.

That was why he didn't want her at the appointment. Things would probably go smoothly this time, but in case they didn't, he wanted her to be far away from that.

He had learned to let her get close to him when it was about emotional pain, or joys, and she did the same. On that front, they did just fine, and he was extremely happy about it. But when it came to his leg, as always, it was just him. It was something he had and wanted to do himself. He still had some dignity left in her eyes, and he was determined not to lose it. He wanted her to look at him like a real man.

"It's just something I have to do alone, and I'm not sure she'll understand. Will you help me or not?" he said eventually.

"Like I had a choice" Wilson cracked, smiling. He would think of something.

House could never be grateful enough for his loyalty.

* * *

Apparently, Wilson did have a nice idea, as Cuddy texted House about five minutes before the appointment saying that there was an emergency in the clinic and she may have not been able to arrive on time.

The prosthetist was explaining him how the new prosthesis worked, what was the difference from the old one, how to do maintenance on it, and all sort of technicalities House wasn't really interested in.

He was sitting on a bed in the physical therapy room, observing what would soon be his new leg. It looked like a nice leg, much more advanced than the old one. It looked _cool_, even.

"Whenever you're ready, Dr. House, we can remove the old prosthesis and start using the new one" Dr. Hoffmann said gently.

House nodded. He reached under his shorts and carefully removed the socket from his stump, then placed the fake leg next to him.

At that point he looked up, but he was left bewildered by what he saw.

_Himself._

While he was busy taking away the leg, the prosthetist had placed a full-length mirror in front of him. It was standard procedure for new amputees who could struggle with body image issue, but it really wasn't House's case. At least, he thought so.

"Why the mirror?" he asked.

"So you can see yourself with your new leg" Hoffmann replied politely.

However, House was frowning. He hadn't seen himself like that in months. He wore his prosthesis all the time, except for the night or when he took a bath, and of course in those occasions he would glance at his stump, but it wasn't the same thing. After the surgery, he'd gotten rid the only full-length mirror he owned in his apartment, because he just couldn't look at himself, and then he simply never thought about getting a new one. So this meant that the last time he had the opportunity to get a full view of his body, his _real_ body without the artificial part, was even before he started using the prosthesis, back when he did physical therapy to improve the muscle strength in his stump.

He swallowed. That was a long time ago, and he'd always thought he had finally accepted himself. Instead, the only thing he could think of as he stared at his own reflection in the mirror, was how _ugly_ he looked, with that pathetic piece of limb not even long enough to come out of his shorts. He had to look away.

He used to think the scar that the infarction had left him was horrible, but he would have appreciated it more if he had seen _this_. At least once he used to look like a man, like a human being. But now?

Now he pitied himself.

"Is there a problem?" the prosthetist asked.

"Not at all" House replied, pulling himself together "can we just get to the part where I wear the new thing?"

"Sure" Hoffmann said.

The socket was very similar to the one he had been wearing before, so House couldn't really feel the difference. However, he felt it as soon as he stood up and took one small tentative step.

He felt stable. He didn't even need to counter-balance himself, the microprocessor in the knee was doing everything for him. It really felt good.

He walked around the room for a while, first with Hoffmann's aid, then by himself. So far so good.

"I'll give this baby a run out on the treadmill" he announced at some point, patting his fake thigh.

The prosthetist frowned.

"I think you should keep walking a little longer before…"

He couldn't even finish the sentence, that House had already activated the treadmill. He wanted to run. He wanted to do sports, he wanted to feel normal again.

He started with one of the lowest speeds, just to get used to it. He hadn't been on the treadmill for a while. But it didn't take long before he started increasing the speed, fastening his pace, until he finally was ready to run.

Or at least he thought he was.

Just a couple of seconds after his finger had pressed the speed up button, he already had his chin and chest against the deck of the machine, one hand still attached to the safety handrails. He let go before his shoulder started to hurt as well.

His hands clenched in fists for the anger and frustration, as he sat up on the floor and checked if there was any damage to the prosthesis.

"Don't worry, it can take a stumble" Hoffmann said, getting closer to him "are you okay?"

House nodded. He had a couple of tender spots on his chin and ribcage and shoulder, where he hit harder, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Those were not the problem. The problem was that once again, he couldn't run properly. Would he ever be able to?

"I thought this new leg would make me run" he said defeated.

"It will eventually, you just need to be more patient… your body had adjusted to the mechanics of the old leg and now it has to reprogram everything… but you will run. Do you want to try again? Maybe a lower speed"

House shook his head.

He was done for today, and maybe for the following days too. He couldn't take another failure. Once again, he had proved himself that he was just a cripple, and that was what he would stay forever, no technology was ever going to change it.

He was so frustrated, so disappointed, so pissed at himself that for a moment, just for a moment, he wished Cuddy was there with him.

* * *

Cuddy knocked at his apartment door, a few hours later, when he was about to order some dinner. House was surprised to see her, but not in a negative way. He wasn't sure it was positive, though.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I had an emergency meeting, and it's just finished… I thought I could stop by before going home. How was the appointment?"

Once again, she seemed excited about it, although he found it weird that she didn't apologize for not showing up.

"It was okay" he replied, as they sat on the couch next to each other.

"So… you're ready to run again now"

He flinched slightly at her comment, but not enough for her to notice.

"Yep… I'm back on tracks" he said, forcing a smile. He hadn't lied to her in months, and now he did, twice in one day. He didn't like the feeling it caused him, but he couldn't avoid it.

She smiled. "It's great"

Pushed by her own happiness for him, she got closer to him and took him in her arms, hugging tightly. He couldn't help hugging back.

Oddly enough, it was just what he needed. It had been such a long day, full of stress and disappointments, and being so close to her felt great. Although he still didn't want to share his issues with her, he was glad she was there for him anyway.

She just smelled so good. His head was buried in her hair, and he couldn't help inhaling her scent.

As she was starting to pull away, her hands still around his shoulders, he lost control over his rational mind and kissed her, just a light brush over her soft lips. He had wanted to do this for months, since that very first day when she called him in her office, every single day since that day he had wanted to kiss her.

As she pulled back, he saw the bewildered look on her face, her eyes wide open, and for a moment he thought he had screwed everything up.

But then she crashed her mouth on his again, and that was the end of any rational thought.

He just wanted her, wanted to feel all of her against him, her body, her skin, everything. He captured her lower lip between his, biting gently, and she immediately opened her mouth for him. Their tongues found each other, massaged each other, while his hands cupped her cheeks and she brought her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer if possible. It was passionate, and ferocious, and unstoppable, and it felt like coming home after the longest trip. He had missed the taste of her lips on his, the way her cheeks became hotter and hotter under his hands.

Suddenly, it wasn't enough anymore.

He moved his hands down, pushing her jacket down her shoulders and throwing it away, then he pushed her under him on the couch, his tongue still hungrily exploring her mouth. Moaning in surprise and lust, she reached the lower edge of his t-shirt and pulled it up above his head to remove it, the action causing them to break the kiss for a moment.

He looked at her, how sexy she was, panting under him, with her pupils dilated and her lips swollen and glistening from the passion, and he thought he couldn't wait one more second to make her his. He launched himself towards her, hearing her inhaling sharply as he resumed the kiss, even more voraciously than before.

Her hands started roaming across his bare back, her nails scratching his skin, while his mouth left hers, trailing wet kisses on her cheeks first, then down her neck, sucking on all the spots he knew would drive her crazy.

"House" she pleaded in a whisper full of desire, stretching her neck on one side to give him better access, her knees straddling his hips trying to make as much contact as possible, as her fingers reached the waistband of his jeans.

That was when everything crashed down on him.

In a few minutes, she was going to see him naked. She was going to see the gimp he really was.

Suddenly, his own reflection in the mirror, from that afternoon, appeared in front of his closed eyelids. She was the hottest, sexiest, most beautiful woman on heart. He was just an old cripple with a missing limb.

He kept kissing her, his hands reaching under her blouse. He focused on her amazing body, on her soft skin under his pads, trying so hard to ignore the thought of himself, of how inadequate he was, his own reflection on the mirror still not leaving his mind.

As he unbuttoned her blouse enough to reveal her cleavage covered by a black bra, he thought of her gaze, that night in his apartment, the only night where she had gotten a glimpse of who he really was. If she had pitied him back then, how was she going to react to the full view?

How was she going to look at him like a man? How was she ever going to be attracted to him?

"House" she whispered, as his hands grabbed her breasts.

His kisses trailed town to her throat, then lower and lower, her blouse now fully open, tasting her salty skin on his lips, trying to focus on her and on her only, and most importantly trying to distract _her_ from him. Maybe he could keep his pants on, and just open them to make the act possible. Maybe, if he could please her well enough, she would…

"House" she repeated firmly "Look at me"

He stopped his attentions to do as she said. He climbed up her body, his hips nestled between his legs, and looked at her. She was biting her lip. One of her hands tentatively reached his cheek, slowly caressing with her thumb.

She was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't understand what. Why had she interrupted him? He thought she was enjoying this.

"This is not…" Cuddy began cautiously "this is not working"

He gave her a puzzled look. As an answer, she glanced down, where their bodies met. That was when House realized he didn't have an erection. He didn't know if he had lost it at some point, or if he'd just never gotten one at all.

He sat up abruptly on the edge of the couch, his neck reddening for the humiliation. It had never happened with her, _never_. He had always been able to satisfy her, even at the end of his toughest days, he could _always_ get it up for her.

"Hey, it's fine" he heard her say sweetly, as she sat up next to him "it really is"

_It wasn't._

"Please leave" he said in a low voice, still staring in front of him.

"What?"

"I said, please leave" he repeated. He had failed too many times today.

Instead, she put a hand on his nape, letting her fingers dance gently on the soft skin there, while she placed a kiss on his bare shoulder.

He jumped up, and started walking towards his bedroom. She was trying to be nice and supportive, and it was the last thing he needed. He needed her to get away from him, he needed to be alone, as he belonged.

"Leave!" he shouted, before shutting his bedroom door behind him.

But she didn't want to give up, not yet. Not now that they had found each other again.

She walked to his room with her blouse still open, the floor feeling cold under her bare feet (her shoes must have fallen off at some point). She opened the door, and she found him sitting on his bed.

"Go away" he repeated, without shouting this time. Her mere presence made him feel emasculated, humiliated, embarrassed.

Once again, she sat next to him, calmly.

"Talk to me…" she whispered. At first, she had suspected this was just one of those things that could happen, especially to a man in his late fifties with a history of drug abuse. She thought it was just something physical.

But now, she figured there was something more behind it.

However, he didn't reply, but she could hear his heavy breaths.

"Get out of my house" he said eventually.

"House, please, let's…"

"Get the hell out of my house!"

He had shouted again, right in her face, with such an anger in his voice that it actually scared her.

She walked away as quickly as she could.

She buttoned her blouse and wore her shoes, her jacket, and then walked out of his apartment, a few tears streaming down her cheeks.

He heard the sound of her heels getting more and more distant, until he just couldn't hear it anymore.

A part of him wanted to stop her, apologize, tell her this wasn't her fault, and that he had no intention to treat her like that. He shuddered at the memory of how he treated her. She deserved so much better than that.

Another part of him, however, felt relieved that she was gone, that he didn't have to deal with her caring words anymore.

He would have hurt her anyway, sooner or later. He would have pushed her away eventually.

She deserved so much better than _him_.

He got up, went back to the living room, wore his t-shirt again. Then ordered some Chinese food, as he had originally planned.

* * *

The idea that he could have reacted differently started creeping in him much later that evening, after the sense of humiliation faded away slowly.

First, it was replaced by the memories of how good she felt under him, how good her lips tasted. He had dreamed for years of her body, and he couldn't believe he had managed to screw everything up.

But it wasn't just that. It wasn't just the missed opportunity.

He started feeling _lonely_, miserable, worthless, and his very first instinct was to text her, just to tell her what happened, because she cared about him and she would listen to him, and talking to her managed to make him feel better. She could understand him.

He laughed at himself. He was just so pathetic, wanting to reach the woman that had witnessed his impotence, the shadow of man he had become. He was such a wuss. He couldn't talk to her about this. Not that she'd want to talk to him.

_Not that she'd want to talk to him._

He froze at that mere though. What if she didn't want to talk to him anymore? What if she had decided that he wasn't worth another chance? What if she _left_ him again?

Before he could realize it, he was on his bike, driving to her house.

He knocked on her door, more loudly than he would have wanted (it was pretty late and Rachel was definitely in bed already), but he had to talk to her. He just had to. He couldn't lose her, not again.

As Cuddy appeared in front of him, he couldn't quite read her expression. He was prepared to apologize, because that was the only thing he could think about, apologizing to her. The times were he couldn't even say the word were long gone. She was so much more important than his stupid pride.

Instead, she spoke first.

"It's a little late, isn't it?"

But she wasn't mad. She was smirking, leaning on the door with her arms folded. He had thought she wouldn't even open the door for him.

"Four hours and forty-seven minutes… wait, now forty-eight… that's how long I've been waiting for you" she added, glancing at the phone she was holding in her hand.

She was waiting for him.

She knew he would come, as that time she had known he wouldn't take the amphetamines.

_She still believed in him. She still knew he could do better._

He couldn't resist anymore. He took a big step towards her and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips, before hugging her as tight as he could, burying his face in her neck.

"I'm sorry" he whispered against her skin. It was time to prove her that she wasn't wrong about him.

In response, she wrapped her arms around his body. He could swear she was smiling.

They got inside, and she offered to make him some hot tea, but he declined. He hadn't come for tea. So they just sat on the couch next to each other, and she turned on TV at the lowest volume.

He understood why she did that. It wasn't because she wasn't interested in talking, it was because she wanted to give him time to think about what he wanted to say. She didn't want to rush him, or pressure him, and he was so grateful for that.

"It wasn't about you" he said after a while "it's been a tough day"

She scoffed.

"I never thought it was about me… I'm one damn hot MILF" she cracked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

He didn't smile. Involuntarily, she had touched the tender spot.

She bit her lip as she realized she had made a gaffe. She wasn't sure what to do next. Physical contact usually helped him opening up, but right now it may have not been the best idea. She just put her hand above his, on the couch, and she was glad when he didn't move.

However, when he also didn't speak, she took a deep breath.

"Was that for the same reason why you didn't want me at the appointment today?" she asked.

He looked at her with bewildered eyes.

"How did you…?"

"Come on, you relied on Wilson for a lie. He tried to find an excuse, but it lasted five minutes"

House rolled his eyes. He should have made up something himself. After a couple of seconds, however, he realized something more important. She wasn't mad about the lie either.

"You're not mad about it" he pointed out.

"I was pissed at first, but then…" she began "I mean, you haven't lied to me in months… not that I know of… so there had to be a reason why you decided to do so this time…"

She didn't actually voiced it, but it was obvious that the sentence ended with "and I want to know that reason".

He glanced down.

"I… fell off the treadmill today, when I tried to run…" he muttered.

She was going to say something reassuring, like that it could happen, and he was a doctor and he should have known this, but he spoke once again.

"…And I don't want you to see me like that"

It was all she needed to hear. Over the years, she had learned to know him, to know what he meant with his words. She had learned how to read between the lines.

He didn't mean that he didn't want her to see him falling. He meant he didn't want her to see his struggles at all.

Her heart wrenched. He wasn't supposed to go through this alone.

"But I want to be with you" she whispered. And it was the truth. She wanted him to rely on her for this, as for everything else, because she was in love with him, and he was in love with her, and that's what people do, they count on the loved one.

She shifted closer to him. Shockingly, the fact that she realized she loved him was not a surprise at all.

"Why would you?" he asked. He actually knew she wanted to be there, but he didn't want her there.

"Because I'm in love with you" she replied, pressing a kiss on the side of his neck.

Her words paralyzed him.

_She was in love with him._ It was like a wish coming true.

He didn't say anything. He just raised her chin to look at her and kissed her, hard and passionately, as if his life depended on that. She responded immediately, opening her mouth to welcome him inside.

It felt so good. He could touch all the right spots inside her mouth, like he was born to do this. She wanted more. She wanted so much more.

Suddenly, she pulled back, and he made a frustrated sound.

"Wait" she whispered, then turned around towards the hall.

A very sleepy Rachel was climbing down the stairs rubbing her eyes.

"Hey sweetie, what are you doing here?" Cuddy asked in a sort of baby voice, as her daughter snuggled between her and House on the couch.

"There were some thuds and I woke up… then I heard House's voice and I wanted to say hi…" Rachel replied, yawning.

House felt a little guilty for waking her up. He knew he had knocked too loudly. She climbed on his lap and rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his hands around her little body.

"Hi kid"

"Hi House"

"Now that you've said hi, what do you think of going back to bed?" Cuddy asked softly.

Rachel shook her head against his chest.

"I wanna stay with House" she whined sleepily, barely able to keep her eyes open.

He casted a look at Cuddy, not sure about what to say. She smiled.

"House is preparing your breakfast and driving you to school tomorrow morning" she said.

Rachel opened her eyes wide at those words, surprised and excited. Not as surprised as House, though.

"What do you think? Do you like the idea?" Cuddy prompted her daughter again, who nodded happily.

"Yes!" she uttered.

"So what do you think of going back to sleep now?"

Rachel nodded again, her mouth opening in another yawn. Cuddy stretched out her arms towards her, as to invite her in a hug, but House held her close.

"I'll… I'll take her back to bed" he said.

Then he walked up the stairs with Rachel in his arms, her head buried in his neck. He thought he could have never done this while he still had his leg.

He didn't actually need to do much, she was already asleep the moment she lay down. He tucked her in and whispered good night, wishing he could do this more often.

As he walked out quietly, not to disturb her anymore, he found Cuddy waiting for him right outside her room.

They looked at each other. There were so many things going on, so many things he knew he would have to talk about sooner or later.

He just didn't want to right now. The only thing he wanted was to be with her again.

She wanted it too. She had denied the truth to herself for so long, but now it was time to make up for the lost moments.

She took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

They lay close to each other, just looking in their eyes. He had chosen to keep his pants, although he could have slept without them, but she said nothing. They could have talked about it another time. Instead, there was something _she_ needed to say, just because she wanted to be fully honest with him if they were going to start a relationship. Also, it was something that could have helped him realize love went beyond physical struggles.

"There's one thing I haven't told you yet" she whispered.

"Don't tell me you've grown a penis"

A half smile formed on her lips at his joke, but just for a second. Then she got serious again.

"I've… almost reached menopause"

It was something she was a bit ashamed of, because she still considered herself young after all, but at the same time she knew she would come this early for her. It had happened the same to her mom. It had started while she was still in Pittsburgh. One month, she skipped her period, and since she hadn't been sexually active in the previous weeks, she suspected immediately what it was. In the following months, she skipped more periods, and when she had it it was irregular, sometimes it just lasted two days, while some other times the bleeding was so heavy that she actually felt sick.

She wasn't really in menopause yet, as she still had some sporadic periods every two-three months, but she was close. She was just thankful that she didn't have other general symptoms yet, such as hot flashes or joint pains. Also her libido was still pretty normal, although it took her a little more time to get wet enough.

"You're not the only damaged goods here" she added, seeing he wasn't replying.

He started stroking her hair gently. She wasn't damaged goods, she was just almost forty-eight years old. It was natural. He couldn't say the same of himself.

"I don't care" he whispered. And he really didn't. This didn't change a thing in his eyes. It just meant he would have needed to work a little more on her when they ended up having sex, but he did that anyway.

She smiled. She knew they were two different things, but why couldn't he understand that just like he didn't care about her menopause, she didn't care about his leg either?

Hesitantly, she closed the distance between them and softly kissed his lips, her tongue licking them slowly as to ask him to open them for her.

He visibly tensed up.

He wanted her. He wanted all of her, so much, but he wasn't sure he could do this. His body had already failed him twice today, first on the treadmill then with her, and he just couldn't take a third time.

She noticed it and brought a hand to his cheek.

"What about an old-fashioned junior high make-out session?" she asked.

He looked at her, at her beautiful grey eyes, and felt loved. He had forgotten how good it felt to be loved, and he just couldn't love her more than this. She was sweet and understanding, and acknowledge his limits, and he was forever thankful for this.

"What about second base?" he asked, smirking.

She grinned.

They spent what felt like hours just kissing. At times it was tender and playful, just a soft brush of lips against lips, while their hands wandered on each other's back or gently stroked each other's hair. At times it became more passionate, and they would grab each other's ass and he would slide his hand under her vest to palm her breasts, feeling her nipple getting hard against it, making her moan in approval in his mouth.

Eventually, the kisses started getting sloppier and sleepier, and they cuddled up against each other.

"So you're in love with me" he whispered.

He could feel her smile on his chest, despite the layer that his t-shirt created.

"I am" she replied softly.

"I am too, you know" he cracked.

"Good" she said, holding him closer.

"So… does this mean we are _going steady_?"

She giggled at his choice of words.

"I guess so"

He was grateful for the fact that she wasn't looking at him, or she would have seen his eyes tear up with joy.

After a while, they fell asleep.


	14. Can You Feel The Love

_So, here's chapter 11 :) I don't really have much to say about it, just that it's rated M... for a reason. About this, I need to apologize in advance, in case something sounded weird (English is still not my first language, and writing this kind of stuff is particularly hard). Like at some point I'd written "breasts jingling" instead of "breasts jiggling"... thank God I corrected that one. But yeah, I apologize in case there's something else like that that I haven't noticed. _

_The title comes from the amazing song by Elton John, but I also got inspired from "Kiss Me" by Ed Sheeran. If you already haven't, you should listen to them both because they are really beautiful songs. _

_Next chapter, the last one before the epilogue, will come on Wednesday. _

_Thanks a lot to all of you for your support!_

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**XI. Can You Feel the Love (Tonight)**

The morning after didn't go quite as planned.

House was supposed to prepare Rachel's breakfast and then drive her to school. Instead, when he got up, both Rachel and Cuddy were already eating downstairs, and there was an extra bowl on the table.

He smiled.

"I made your breakfast!" the little girl announced, as he sat at the table. He looked down, and saw that his bowl was filled with milk and chocolate cereals, with whipped cream on top.

To be honest, it didn't really look that appealing, also because he hadn't had breakfast with cereals in literally ages. Plus, whipped cream?

"It's good, taste it!" Rachel prompted.

He glanced at Cuddy. She was eating a toast, and shrugged. "She insisted" she mouthed.

He tasted it. It wasn't the most disgusting thing he ever had in his mouth, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"So, how is it?" Rachel asked once again, with a wide grin on her face.

"It's… not bad, kid. Thanks" he replied, trying to sound convincing in order not to disappoint her.

For the sake of coherence, he had to eat all of it, and it took much more effort than he originally believed.

That morning, he was also supposed to drive Rachel to school, but since he had come with his bike the night before, Cuddy thought it was a better idea if she did the driving herself.

They dropped Rachel to school together, then they drove to the hospital. House felt happy, as he hadn't felt in years. He was again in a relationship with the woman he loved and who loved him back, and he still couldn't believe it. But it wasn't just that. That morning, he got a glimpse of what being part of a family looked like, and it looked great.

When they dated the first time, they were never a family. There were Cuddy and Rachel, and they were the family. He was the guest, the babysitter, the guy who happened to spend the night at their house from time to time.

That morning it had been the same, he was still the guest, but it felt different. He felt loved, he felt he belonged somewhere. Even the awful breakfast he had to forcefully ingest, it came from a gesture of love. It made him feel like he was wanted there.

And he wanted to be there too.

No way he would have screwed up this time. He just wouldn't allow himself to.

"Are you having dinner at my place tonight?" Cuddy asked, as they walked together into the hospital.

"I don't think I will be able to eat ever again after that breakfast" he replied.

She chuckled.

"I have to confess, it was fun to watch. It's like karma punished you for lying to me" she said.

He smirked.

"So, yes or no for tonight?" she asked again.

"Count me in!"

As he pronounced those words, he leaned towards her to kiss her, but she pulled back. He looked confused. Had she already changed her mind about them?

"You know there's something we have to do first" she said.

It took him a few seconds to acknowledge what she was referring to.

"Seriously?" he uttered as soon as he understood "Human Resources again?!"

She nodded, and started to walk towards her office.

"2 pm. Be there" she said before disappearing behind the glass doors of the clinic.

* * *

Later, that evening, House went home just long enough to have a shower and change clothes, then he drove back to Cuddy's house.

The three of them had dinner together, this time thankfully not cooked by Rachel. It was a pleasant evening, they talked about random things and joked a lot. One of the topic that came up was a medical conference in Paris, that would take place in late Fall, and to which House was invited to talk about the Lassa fever case, and how to prevent hemorrhagic fevers. When Cuddy mentioned it, he had rolled his eyes and said he would think about it.

However, both of them were over the moon. She felt again the old hope that maybe, one day, she could have the family she had always wanted. She came close to fulfilling this dream back when she dated House, but it never really worked out. Right now, however, it was so nice to see them get along so well.

He just thought he wanted to have dinner like this every single evening.

Suddenly, about when they were starting to clear the table, the doorbell rang.

House was both surprised and confused when Cuddy opened, and it was Wilson.

"Hi there!"

"Rach!" she shouted "it's uncle Jim! Is your stuff ready?"

Rachel ran down the stairs with her backpack on her shoulders, and hugged Wilson.

House couldn't quite understand what was going on at first, but then it became clear.

He waved goodbye to his friend and Rachel, as they disappeared behind the door a few minutes later, after they had both heard Cuddy's recommendations on how to behave during that unplanned "sleepover party at uncle Jim's".

"He's watching her for the night and then he's driving her to school tomorrow" Cuddy explained, as she approached House, who was still standing near the dining table.

"Yeah, I got that" he replied. He also got what this meant: she had special plans for the night. He waited for her to make the next move, but she just smiled.

"Let's do the dishes" she whispered, patting on his chest with a hand before walking towards the kitchen.

After they finished cleaning up everything, they cozied up on her couch with a glass of wine, just enjoying each other's company knowing there would be no interruption.

It was Cuddy who made the first move, some time later. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him towards her in a deep kiss. He inhaled sharply at the contact, instinctively wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

Without breaking the kiss, she sat on him, straddling his hips with her legs, while his hands wandered across her back.

Although everything seemed perfect, she knew what he was thinking. She knew he wanted her, as much as she wanted him, if not more, but she also knew he was _afraid_.

She interrupted the kiss to look at him in the eyes, her fingers dancing through his hair.

"I want to make love to you" she whispered sweetly. She was so close that he could feel her breath against his chin.

His eyes met hers. He loved her so much that he was _scared_ of this. What if he didn't work again? And even if he worked, how was he going to please her without a leg?

He tried to push these thoughts aside as he felt her nuzzling his neck, leaving a few light kisses there. He closed his eyes.

"I missed it, you know…" she whispered in his ear, while gently rocking her hips against his groin "I missed the feeling of having you inside me…"

She smirked against his skin as she started to feel his physical reaction at her words and actions.

As soon as she faced him again, he captured her lips once more, suddenly desperate for her touch. He wanted this, he wanted her, and this time, every part of him wanted her.

"Bedroom?" he managed to ask, despite the shortness of breath. She nodded.

She took his hand, and they walked together up the stairs, until they reached her room. For a few seconds, they just stood there, at the foot of the bed, the room only lit by the bare light of the moon.

She held him in her arms, her fingertips brushing softly against his upper arm left uncovered by his t-shirt. He put his hands on her hips, while he grazed her forehead with his lips, his stubble scratching lightly against her skin.

They were barely touching, and it already felt incredibly intense.

He wanted this to be perfect. They'd had sex uncountable times in the past, but this felt like the first time.

It felt like his _very_ first time.

He nuzzled gently against her cheek, slowly reaching her mouth. They both shuddered at the feeling as their lips touched again. It was just a light brush at first, so light they could barely feel it. She was the first one who deepened it, her hand reaching his nape and pulling him towards her.

In that precise moment, when their tongues first met, the rest of the world stopped existing.

One of his hands stroked her soft curls, as she moaned in approval against his mouth. He wanted more, but at the same time he wanted to take his time. She deserved this.

They broke the kiss for a few seconds when she removed his t-shirt, her hands now free to roam across his bare back. He shivered at the contact, suddenly wanting nothing else other than her skin against his.

He freed her from her sweater, and he pulled her against him. They both gasped at the contact, her bra the only thing separating them. He leaned his forehead against hers, the tip of their noses touching slightly.

"I love you" she whispered.

"I love you too"

He captured her lips again, then moved slowly down her neck, one hand cupping her cheek, the other one on the small of her back. She sighed, leaning her head on his hand, as her knees started to buckle. She let herself enjoy his attentions for a few seconds. He kept trailing kisses down her neck, sometimes suckling, sometimes nipping, sometimes just brushing against her skin, her scent inebriating his senses.

He stopped when he felt her small hand cupping his own, holding it in hers, while she left a few tender kisses on his palm and fingers. She wanted to kiss every single inch of his body that night.

His eyes teared up at the love and sweetness he felt in her gesture. With that same hand, he grazed her lips with a feather light touch, feeling them moist, as their gazes locked together once again.

She was so beautiful she took his breath away.

He kissed her again, her tongue exploring his mouth, his fingertips caressing every inch of her silky skin. She gasped when his lips brushed against his neck again, and his hands grabbed her bra straps, pulling them down her shoulders, his mouth following the path, then coming up again to linger in that soft spot between her neck and her shoulder. Judging by the sounds coming from her mouth, that was still a good spot.

His hands unclasped her bra, and he immediately removed it completely. Then, resuming the kiss, he picked her up and gently lay her on the bed.

His pupils dilated at the sight of her naked upper body. She was as stunning as he remembered. He bent down to kiss her again, first on her mouth, then down her throat, tasting her skin.

She moaned as he reached her left breast, his tongue lapping at her hardening nipple, while his cupped the other breast and massaged it gently. He kissed and licked his way from one nipple to the other, alternatively, giving equal attentions to both but lingering on the left one a little more. For some reason, it was more sensitive than the other. _He remembered_. He kept doing that for a while, just enjoying the sweet sounds that came from her mouth and that went straight to his dick, now hard against his jeans.

Soon she started writhing under him in pleasure, pressing her tights together, as the tension between them became harder to bear.

"Please" she whispered.

He smirked against her breast, knowing it was time to move south. He wanted to get her off, so many times that she wouldn't be able to get up aftterwards.

He kissed down her stomach and belly, following an imaginary path. His hands in the meantime where fumbling with her pants, and as soon as they were open, he pulled them away from her body together with her panties.

His breath caught in his throat, as he glanced up at her, now fully naked in front of him. He would never stop thinking how beautiful she was. Her corvine hair messily spread out on the pillow, her piercing grey eyes, her flushed cheeks, her soft lips, her chest rising rhythmically with her heavy breaths, her round breasts, her hard pink nipples still wet with his saliva, her flat stomach, her open vulva, her lean legs.

She was perfect. He drank in the sight of her for more time than he would have wished, when she suddenly closed her knees and looked away from him.

"I'm sorry, I… I didn't have time to shave…" she murmured, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. He had seen her naked thousands of times, but she'd always been always _flawless_ for him. This time, it just slipped from her mind. She was hoping he wouldn't notice.

And he hadn't. Or he had, but he just couldn't care less. She could grow hair on every single part of her body, she could even grow scales or any other thing, and he still wouldn't care. As long as she was still Lisa Cuddy, and as long as she wanted him, he would desire her and make love to her every single night for the rest of his life, because he just loved her that much.

"I'll forgive you this time" he said instead, placing a light peck on her knee. She spread her legs for him again. She had heard his thoughts better than his words.

He immediately inhaled her scent. It was the most powerful aphrodisiac. His lips brushed softly against her inner thighs, closer and closer to where she needed them the most. When he finally made contact with her groin, she thrust her hips towards him. He pulled back. Not yet.

She groaned in lust and frustration when he ran the tip of his finger along her slit, before pushing it slowly inside her heated core. Her walls clenched around him, as she sighed in a mix of pleasure and discomfort. She was so tight, and not as wet as she used to be at this point, although she was clearly aroused. He didn't move his finger any further. He didn't want this to hurt, not even a little bit. Instead, he let his thumb run along her clit, while he used his other hand to fondle her left breast, and pinched her nipple.

"Yes" she uttered, arching her back off the bed.

This, she liked. He could feel her muscles relaxing and lubricating slowly around his finger.

He pumped very delicately at first, louder sobs escaping her mouth, then when he thought she was ready, he added another finger, his other hand still tweaking her nipple.

She cried his name.

As he pumped leisurely in and out of her, he let go of her breast to part her intimate folds and started lapping and sucking her clit, alternating long strokes to quick loops, making her moan and cry and buck her hips ruthlessly.

He loved her when she was so wild, he thought to himself, as both his mouth and fingers picked up a steadier pace. He kept going for a while, tasting her now abundant juices, bringing her a little further with every movement.

She was seeing stars, as the pleasure from her clit spread in waves through her whole body. He was fucking good at this. He knew exactly what she needed, what she wanted.

"I'm… I'm close…" she whispered.

He grinned against her. He already knew that. He had learned how her body worked, during the years, and he knew when she was close to orgasm. She would tug at the sheets, spread her legs wider and raise her hips and back as high as she could, she would hold her breath.

When she started doing just that, he sucked harder on her clit and added a third finger inside her.

With that further intrusion, her inner walls clenched hard and she came loudly, her whole body shaking. He stilled his movements, letting her ride her orgasm, enjoying the contractions of her body and the pride he felt in the fact that he was still able to please her after all. As she calmed down, he crawled back to her side, capturing her lips again. She smirked against his mouth as she felt his hard erection pressing against her hip.

They kissed a little longer, her tongue lazily exploring his mouth, while his hands squeezed her ass. He just couldn't get enough of her. He was going to cup her sex again, but she stopped him. She had other plans.

She rolled him on his back and started unbuttoning his jeans.

"Don't" he said. She removed her hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She didn't have to wait for an answer though, she knew perfectly well what he was thinking. She started placing light kisses on his shoulders, down the line of his clavicle then up his throat.

"Trust me… I love you" she whispered between kisses, as they reached his jaw.

He closed his eyes. Disappointing her was the last thing he wanted.

"Just let me do it, okay?" he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Can you… not watch?"

She nodded, not because she agreed with him, but because it was the only way. If he wasn't ready to do this, then she wouldn't pressure him. She shoved herself under the blanket, turned on the opposite side of where she could hear him fumbling with his clothes, and waited.

A couple of minutes later, he got under the blanket as well, now fully naked, his prosthetic leg leaning against the nightstand.

"I'm ready" he said "Let's get on with it"

His words expressed one thing, but they meant something else. Turning around, she noticed how tense he was. He was still looking at her, but without the fire and the lust she had seen there before.

"So? Are you going to jump my bones or not?" he asked, kind of annoyed.

It hurt a little to hear him talk like that. She didn't want this to be just a fuck, a soulless physical act. She wanted to make love to him. She wanted him to feel how much she loved him.

"I love you" she whispered.

Then she kissed him, tenderly, one hand cupping his cheek.

"I love you" she repeated. Her hand left his cheek and started its journey across his chest, casually brushing his nipples, tickling his soft hair. She could feel his nervousness fade slightly under her touch, and he started kissing her back, gently biting her lower lip.

His muscles contracted once again as she reached south of his navel. He flinched at the idea that she might touch his stump, that she was even thinking about it.

"Stay with me…" she murmured against his lips "let me love you"

With those words, she wrapped her fingers around his penis. It wasn't fully hard anymore, but she was glad that it wasn't fully soft either. She started stroking it slowly, careful not to hurt him, while her mouth left his and moved to his neck, taking his earlobe between her lips.

His breath became heavier. It looked like she too remembered his erogenous zones. With her teeth and tongue torturing his ear, and her hand pumping his growing erection, it became hard to think rationally. Not that there was anything to think about.

"I want to make you feel good" she whispered into his ear. After one last bite at his earlobe, she started moving away, agonizingly slowly, disappearing under the blanket, kissing all the way down through his throat and chest. He held his breath in anticipation as she nuzzled against the line of fine hair that connected his navel to his pube, and he pulled away the blanket. He didn't care about his leg anymore. The only thing he cared about was her mouth on his penis. As if she could read his thoughts, and maybe in this context she could, she did just that. She placed a few wet kisses along his length, to facilitate the movement of her hand, and then, when he less expected it, she flicked her tongue against his swollen head, once, and then again. He groaned. She hadn't touched it yet.

He instinctively tried to thrust his hips towards her face, but he couldn't. It turned out he didn't really have much mobility with just one leg.

However, before he could rationally acknowledge this, she took him in her mouth, inch by inch, her tongue stimulating the underside of his glans, where he liked it the most. He rolled his eyes in pleasure, as his moans became louder. Her mouth felt just so warm around him that he didn't know how long he could resist. He brought one hand on her head, to encourage her.

She bobbed her head up and down, sucking and licking, one of her hands following the movement, the other cupping his balls, applying a gentle pressure. When her jaw started to ache a little, she let his dick slid out of her mouth, while keeping the hand going, and she heard him groan in frustration at the sudden feeling of cold. She smirked. With the tip of her tongue, she traced the main vein from the base up, then she engulfed his head again, tasting the smallest trace of pre-come.

Once again, he tried to move his hips, but he failed. It was a good thing, though. He really couldn't take much more than this.

"Cuddy…" he said, a sob escaping his mouth as she hit again that spot with her tongue.

She knew him, and she knew what he wanted and needed now. It was the same for her. She removed her hands and mouth from him, and sat on his hips, moaning at the contact between her clit and the base of his penis.

Their eyes met for a moment. He pulled her down, aching to touch her. Their lips met in a deep kiss, while she guided his erection to her entrance and slowly sunk down on him.

They gasped, suddenly breathless. None of them moved for a few seconds. He cupped her cheek, wondering how he had managed to live for years without this, without _her_.

She kissed him again, as she began moving on him in a slow dance, her lips never really leaving his. She didn't really have much mobility in that position, but they were fine with that. They wanted it to last as long as possible.

When they felt they needed more, she pulled up, her hips now swinging freely. His mouth dried up at the sight of her body bouncing up and down on him, her breasts jiggling, her nipples impossibly hard. He let his hands slide up her body to touch them, tug them. She instantly threw her head back, a cry erupting from her mouth. He groaned as well. Her pleasure was such a turn on for him.

She started moving more quickly, less rhythmically, and her back arched all the way back in a sensual curve, in a desperate attempt to stimulate one very sweet spot inside of her. As she found it, she leaned on her arms back against his knees, her hips swirling furiously. She didn't even notice that one of her hands actually fell on his knee, while the other directly touched the mattress.

He didn't notice it either, because just a few seconds later, he felt her internal muscles squeeze him hard, a loud scream echoing in the room. Her second orgasm had hit her hard, and without the additional stimulation to her clit. He clenched his teeth and his hands in fists, trying to collect all the strength he had inside him to hold off his own pleasure. He could feel his own orgasm right there, ready to explode, but he didn't want this to finish yet. After a few seconds where he thought he was going to lose it, her pussy still contracting around him, he finally managed to get the situation under control.

She lay down on him, panting, and he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her neck hungrily, as she recovered from the orgasm, then he rolled her over. Or at least, he tried to. It took a couple of failed attempts before he could actually manage to do so, and he only succeeded because she helped him.

He ended up on top of her, all his weight leaning on his forearms, his penis still throbbing inside her. He started moving again. He pounded in her as vigorously as he could, but because of the missing support given by his leg, his thrusts were actually pretty weak and with a weird angulation. It was enough for him, who was behind of two orgasms and was already groaning in pleasure with his eyes shut, but it didn't do much for her. She tried shifting her hips, but she was literally trapped under his body, so there wasn't enough space to move around. So she focused on him. She kissed his neck, brushing his soft skin, feeling his pulsating artery under her lips, and caressed his chest, circling his nipples with her thumbs. They could become very sensitive when he was close to orgasm.

And right now, he was. She could feel it. She met his thrust with her hips, as well as she could. It was actually getting nice. Maybe, if they kept going like that for a long time, she would get something out of it eventually. But she could see he was right on the edge, so she started squeezing her inner muscles rhythmically around him, increasing his sensation of pleasure.

"Wait… d-don't…" he stammered, but she wouldn't stop.

He tried a couple of times to slide a hand between their bodies to touch her clit, in a last attempt to satisfy her, but he soon realized his arms were his only support at the moment, so he needed both of them where they were.

"Let it go" she whispered "come for me… I want to feel you coming inside me…"

Hearing those words, he just couldn't hold off any longer. He came with a loud groan, spilling his semen inside her, as he literally collapsed on her.

She welcomed him in her arms, one hand on his broad shoulders, the other massaging his scalp. Now that her rational mind was working again, she could also feel his stump against her right leg.

She found his mouth and kissed him. He was one incredible man.

After a couple of minutes, when she was starting to have troubles breathing, he rolled over on her side (once again, she helped him).

"You didn't come" was the first thing he said, his own breathing still labored.

"I did. Twice" she pointed out.

"There could have been a third time"

He was staring at the ceiling. He couldn't even get his woman off. He really was just a cripple. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he reached for the blanket that was creased under their feet and pulled it up to cover himself.

She stopped him, grabbing his hand.

"Look, I love you" she said "And I plan to have sex with you many more times… we'll think of something"

He couldn't help smirking. She really loved him, then. She didn't care about his leg. _She loved him._

"Plus… if it really bothers you that I haven't come one last time… may I remind you that you still have two functional hands?" she added.

With those words, she spread her legs, and brought his hand to her sex, gasping at the contact.

He grinned. He started stimulating her swollen clit in circles with his thumb, shoving two fingers inside her pussy, while he placed wet kisses on her neck and jaw. She came quickly crying his name. He looked at her as she rode her third orgasm, licking his lips and cursing his age that made his refractory period so long.

"See?" she said as soon as she had enough air in her lungs "We'll think of something"

His heart swelled at those words. _She loved him_. And he loved her, so much. He pressed a kiss on her lips, then he enveloped her in his arms, hugging her as tight as he could. She was the best thing that could ever happen to him, she made every single aspect of his life better just with her mere existence. He would never let her go again.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever known" he whispered in her ear.

She giggled.

"Hey, that's my line!" she said with fake annoyance. He squeezed her even tighter.

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other's closeness.

"Do you still jog?" he asked at some point.

"Sometimes… why?"

"Let's go jogging together in the morning"

She distanced herself from him enough to look at him in the eyes.

"Are you… serious?" she asked carefully. If he was serious about this, it would mean a lot. It would mean that he was willing to let her in completely, even see his struggles in broad daylight. It would mean he wanted her help. It would mean he trusted her, fully and deeply.

"Yes" he nodded. It was a very weird feeling, that he'd never felt before with anyone, not even with Wilson, or with Stacy, or with Cuddy before now. He felt he could be himself with her. He felt he didn't need to hide things from her. He felt safe with her. For some people, it was a normal step. For him, it was a huge one.

They both knew it. She kissed him again, with all the love she had for him.

They covered themselves with the blanket, and stayed there, alternating cuddles and make-out sessions, occasionally thinking of the good old days where they could have sex even twice or more in one night. They fell asleep soon, both naked, both thinking their embrace was the best place to be.

* * *

The morning after, House woke up very early and drove home to get a few workout clothes, and also a few normal but clean ones, just in case they ended up doing more _physical activity_ after the jog. Afterwards, he drove back to her place, and found her there waiting for him and ready to go.

"So, let's go?" she said with a wide grin. He nodded. He felt unusually positive about this.

It was a chilly morning outside, it had rained the whole night and the sky was still grey with clouds. She took him to a nice park behind her house, where there were less people, although it was pretty early so there weren't many anyway.

They just walked at first, then they gradually increased their speed, and suddenly, he was running. It felt amazing. He had missed it so much, and he was actually surprised that he still hadn't fallen over.

A part of him wanted to go faster, wanted to feel the breeze, wanted to hear his heartbeat in his ears. He knew he could, he was just afraid. So he settled for his current speed, focusing on breathing regularly and deeply to increase his resistance.

After a few minutes, Cuddy, who had been exactly at his side the whole time, started running just a little faster, and ended up a few inches ahead of him. He smirked, and caught up with her. He could be short of one leg, but he wasn't going to lose against a woman, even though she was honestly faster and more trained than him. Then she did it again, and once again he caught up. The third time, she run well ahead of him. His breath was still under control, so he could have caught up, but something was stopping him. Last time he pushed his limits, it didn't end very well.

Suddenly, she turned around, facing him but without interrupting her pace.

"Come on!" she shouted "you can do better than that!"

_You can do better._

He finally understood what she was doing. She wasn't challenging him. She was helping him challenging himself.

He speeded up, just a little bit, and then a little bit more. He felt damn proud of himself when he finally reached her, although he recognized she had slowed down slightly to meet him.

They ran side by side for a while. Everything seemed just perfect, until he stepped on some mud with his prosthetic leg and before he could realize it he was face down on the path.

He could hear her stop, but she didn't speak.

There it was, the moment he had dreaded the whole time, the moment in which his failure would be more than evident. It took him a few seconds before he found the courage to look up.

He was expecting to see a worried expression on her face, maybe a pitying one because the poor cripple couldn't even handle a jog in the park.

Instead, she had one hand over her mouth, trying to cover up a giggle.

"It's not funny" he stated.

"You slipped on dog poop" she said, chuckling "Like Goofy on a banana peel"

"It was mud"

"It was dog poop… wet dog poop" she repeated, this time laughing.

He couldn't help laughing too. He really thought it was just mud.

"It's not my fault if some morons didn't pick it up" he said, slowly standing up.

Her eyes opened wide as she saw him. The front of his sweatshirt and pants was totally completely covered in mud, real mud this time. Maybe going for a run in the park after a rainy night hadn't been such a good idea.

She laughed harder. This really felt like a comic scene from a cartoon.

Feeling a little mocked, he got closer to her.

"I could really use some affection right now" he said, opening his arms to ask for an hug.

She jumped away, still laughing.

"You're not going to touch me while you're covered in mud!" she said.

He got even closer, making a pouty face, his arms still spread wide.

She ran away playfully, and he chased her.

Suddenly, he didn't care about falling anymore. He could fall down a thousand times more, but as long as he could run, and as long as she was there with him, he would get up and start over again.

* * *

At some point while they were jogging, they decided to take the morning off ("like last time", he had said). Cuddy wasn't very happy at first, but then she agreed. Afterwards, she also brought up the conference in Paris again, reminding him that he needed to take a decision soon, because she had to RSVP. He said he was thinking about it.

"What would you say to hot bath?" she asked, once they arrived home at her place.

"If it involves you being naked, I'm in…" he replied, kissing her tenderly.

However, as they stepped into her bathroom, he noticed one little detail: there were no grab bars around. Obviously. But how was he supposed to sit in the bathtub without them?

She had already opened the water when she realized he was having some concerns.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yes… I just don't think this is a good idea"

"What? Why not?"

"This new leg… it's not really waterproof. I mean, showers are fine, but I don't think it can… you know, handle a whole bath"

House had chosen to give her this answer instead of the real one. Not that this one was a lie, but it was evident it wasn't _all_ of it. He was supposed to remove the prosthesis, as he did all the times he took a bath, but he wasn't sure he could get in the bathtub without hurting himself. He couldn't be short of both one leg and grab bars. He needed to have at least one of them.

"I can help you" she said "or at least I can try"

She had understood the problem, even though he hadn't actually voiced it, and that left him surprised. She really knew him too well.

Contrary to what she expected, he agreed to accept her help. He just wasn't going to miss the opportunity of taking a hot bath with her.

She smiled at the idea that he was letting her in.

They removed their clothes, throwing them on the corner of the room. She couldn't help staring at him as he stood completely naked in front of her. She had seen him naked the night before, but it had been different, it had been sexual. Right now, it wasn't, not really, not yet. She glanced at his prosthetic leg, the miracle of technology that earlier had allowed him to run again. Honestly, it looked way less weird than she had imagined. He looked as handsome as usual, to her. But maybe it had nothing to do with the presence or absence of his leg. She just loved him.

"You're… beautiful" she whispered, before wrapping her arms around him and pressing a light kiss on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, and feel the slightest hint of an erection against her lower abdomen.

Right now, under the artificial light of her bathroom, he too could see all her little flaws. Her black hair, on the top of her head, was not really black anymore, sign that she'd been dyeing it. Her breasts, affected by gravity, were sagging slightly against her chest. She had a hint of cellulite on the back of her thighs, and some varicose veins on her calves. Her skin in general had become kind of wrinkly, especially on her face and neck. None of this could possibly make her less beautiful in his eyes, though.

He hugged her back. She just looked so tiny to him when she wasn't wearing heels.

Soon they started getting goosebumps because of the cold, so they parted, ready to get on with the bath.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub and started to remove his prosthesis, when she kneeled in front of him and put her hands above his.

He flinched for a moment, but then finished his task. It wasn't really the most comfortable situation. He was sitting there, fully naked, sweaty and stinky from the run, his nipples hard from the cold, his penis almost completely flaccid. He rarely felt so exposed before. But, he had to admit, he was fine with whatever she was going to do. She loved him. He was safe with her.

She put a hand on the bare skin of his stump, first on his thigh, or what was left of it. It was slightly bigger than the other thigh, probably because of all the physical therapy he had to do. She remembered the scar that used to be there. Then she moved her hand down, until she reached the point where the cut was made. She could feel his muscles contracting under her touch, so she removed her hand. Like it often happened with scar tissue, the end of his stump was probably oversensitive.

To balance her actions, she reached the back of his left knee and brushed it lightly with her fingertips. She knew that was a good spot. Then, she let both her hands travel up his body, until they reached his shoulders, and she stood up.

"So, are we getting in or not?" she asked softly, bending over to kiss his lips.

He kissed her back, and nodded.

He stepped inside the bathtub with his leg, holding on to her, and he went to sit down slowly, carefully. Her arms were wrapped around his torso, his around her neck. This wasn't an easy task. He was physically much bigger and heavier than her, but she used all the strength she had to avoid him falling. She was like his rock.

When his ass finally touched the bottom of the bathtub, creating a few small waves in the water, he lose her grip around her and she sighed in relief.

"That was tough" she commented panting, as she stepped into the bathtub and sat between his legs, leaning on his chest.

The feeling of the warm water against her cold skin was so nice, but not as nice as his arms wrapping around her or his mouth placing small kisses along her jawline.

"Thanks" he whispered in her ear. He had expected this to feel pathetic and emasculating, but it actually hadn't. It was hard to describe. He just felt like they were two members of the same team. "But maybe try to hold a little tighter next time, I didn't really feel safe"

She scoffed.

"Excuse me? You're twice my size!"

He smirked. He still enjoyed upsetting her sometimes.

"I'll definitely get grab bars" she added, as he kept nuzzling against her neck.

They stayed there a while, relishing each other and the hot water. Soon his touch on her body started getting less tender and more sensual.

"You're too hot" he said, taking her earlobe between his lips.

She couldn't help grinning. "Hot damn!"

He grinned too against her skin. "I'll call the police and the firemen"

They giggled. It was one of Rachel's favorite songs.

His hands started to roam her body, and cupped her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a better access, and felt his growing erection against the small of her back. He played with her now hard nipples, as she threw her head back against his shoulder and involuntarily spread her legs as much as possible.

He accepted the invitation.

They made love again, kissing each other, touching each other, never having enough of it. They came together, their moans muffled by their kisses.

He held her in his arms as they both recovered from their orgasm, her chin resting on his shoulder, his fingers dancing along her spine. After a while, she broke the silence.

"So… what about the conference in Paris?"


	15. City of Sparkling Lights

_Here we are with the last chapter of this story. It's not my favorite one, and I'm not fully satisfied with it, but it seems I can't do better, so here it is. I hope you'll like it anyway! I just had to write it because I'm a hopeless romantic at heart (you'll understand what I mean). Also, you'll find a not-so-small tribute to what I consider to be the most beautiful city in the world, sorry if it bores you, but I couldn't help it. _

_Well, "see" you on Friday with the epilogue!_

_Enjoy! :)_

* * *

**XII. City of Sparkling Lights**

Cuddy eventually convinced him to go to Paris with her, and even to give a speech about hemorrhagic fevers. She used one simple technique to reach her goal, that used to work very well when they dated the first time: she promised him sex. A lot of sex.

As she had said that night, they did work something out on that field, a series of positions that didn't involve her being strictly on top. Also, sometimes, when they really felt like going wild, he would keep his prosthetic leg. That actually allowed them to do every position in the world, including those that they couldn't experiment when he had his real leg. Among these, there was sex in the shower, or against the wall. They had never tried those before, because he didn't trust his muscle resistance, but now that problem didn't exist anymore. The first time they had sex in the shower was one of the times in which he thought he should have cut off his leg sooner.

So yeah, Cuddy had convinced him to join the medical conference in Paris with this promise: four days of hot sweaty moments, in which he would have access to her body every single time he felt like it, and in every single way. And he knew what she meant.

Plus, once, years ago, they had planned a romantic trip to Mont Saint Michel. Paris wasn't really close to that, but it was still France, so he felt he was actually giving her the trip they'd always wanted.

Overall, it was an offer he couldn't refuse.

However, the plans changed pretty quickly.

One day, about three weeks after he had agreed to go, Cuddy called him in her office. She was waiting for him in front of her desk, leaning on it.

"New case for me?" he asked, placing a delicate peck on her lips.

"Not really" she replied "It's about the trip to Paris"

"Oh, it's cancelled but I still get the sex?... All right, I can live with that" he cracked.

She bit her lip. That was when he first sensed something was wrong. She started pacing slowly around the room, not sure of how to say what she needed to say. She just decided to drop it.

"Rachel said she wants to come with us"

House burst into laughter at her words. "That kid is fun!"

But he soon noticed that she wasn't laughing.

"This is not a joke" he said.

"She's already asked twice"

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, she's seven, she doesn't even know where Paris is"

"You know she's been home with the flu in these days… her babysitter showed her a couple of movies set in Paris, because she knows we're going there… and now Rachel wants to see Notre Dame and the sparkling tower, as she calls it" she explained.

House still couldn't believe it. Okay, Rachel said she wanted to come. Fine. The alternative for her was spending five days at Julia's house, so it was understandable. But the real question was why Cuddy was actually considering it.

He sighed.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I said I'd think about it"

"But you do want her to come, don't you?"

She didn't answer, she just looked down. He took it as a yes.

"You think… a medical conference is a nice place for a third grader? What is she going to do the whole time?" he asked, ironically. He was trying to make her think rationally before having to admit that he wanted it to be just the two of them.

"There's a babysitting service at the hotel, I checked… plus I thought she could stay with you. It's not like you were planning to attend anything a part from your own presentation" she cracked.

This time, he was his turn to stay silent.

"Would you be… fine with that?" she prompted.

He sighed. To be honest, he wasn't. He wanted this weekend to be just about them as a couple, he wanted to have her all for himself, he wanted to be able to make love to her all the times his body could take, without all the "wait I heard a noise" or the "shut up or you'll wake her".

"I was hoping to spend my time there differently" he replied bitterly, unable to hide his disappointment.

She looked away from him. She knew what she had promised, she knew it very well, and she wanted it too. But it was more complicated than that.

"Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with Rachel, you know that" he continued "but… since we started this, we never got a moment just for us… is it that much to ask?"

She understood what he meant, she deeply did, because she felt the same. She loved him so much, and she really wanted to spend some time alone with him.

The fact was that Rachel had been home from school sick basically the whole week, and she was alone the whole time with the babysitter, because "mom has to work". Life had blessed her with the gift of an amazing child, and she was away half of the time. Rachel was going to turn eight in a few weeks, and it felt like she adopted her yesterday, and time was just flying away, and soon she wouldn't be there, home, waiting for her to come back from work.

"I'm never home" she whispered.

She wasn't sure he couldn't understand this.

But he could, actually. He could understand rationally what she was referring to. He had seen from time to time the sense of guilt creeping in her for working long hours and seeing her daughter just for breakfast and dinner. Once she had left pretty early in the morning, when the kid was still asleep, and returned late in the evening, when Rachel was already in bed. House that time had seen a real sadness in Cuddy's eyes. She was an amazing mom.

He also understood that for a long time, it had been just her and Rachel, so he thought it was normal that she was still readjusting her schedule.

He was just supposed to be patient.

"It's fine" he said eventually "we'll have a good time anyway"

And they would. It wasn't going to be the romantic getaway he was hoping for, but maybe they could have fun in a different way.

She smiled sweetly at him.

"Thanks"

He nodded, smiling back. He was going to walk out when he suddenly turned back.

"Do I get extra sex for this?"

Her sweet smile turned into a flirty smirk.

"I actually have half an hour before my meeting…"

"Say no more"

He grinned, locking the office door before crashing his lips against hers.

* * *

The day they were supposed to leave arrived sooner than expected, and everything was ready.

Wilson drove House, Cuddy and Rachel to the airport on a late November morning, waved goodbye and left the three of them alone.

When they got on the plane, they had to choose where to sit: they had booked two seats in business class, that were supposed to be for House and Cuddy, and one in economy class for Rachel. However, at the very last moment, Cuddy decided she didn't want her daughter to sit alone for seven hours. House, immediately, said he wanted to sit with Rachel in business class. Everyone was fine with that.

The only reason why he had decided to sit there was because he wanted to rest a bit, after a night where he had barely slept and foreseeing the effects of jet lag, and he'd figured business class would have been the best choice. Less noise, less people.

He had no idea how wrong he was. Since the very moment in which the seatbelt signals switched off, Rachel never stopped talking.

"Did you know that we're like traveling into the future?" she asked.

"What?"

"You know, we're supposed to get there at 4 pm, but when we land it will be 10 pm there!" she said with clear excitement. This was the longest journey she'd ever taken so far.

He remained silent for a moment.

"…but if we call uncle Jim he would tell us it's 4 pm, but for us it's not, because we'll be in the future" she continued.

"It… it doesn't actually work like that, kid"

He gave her a brief lecture about what time zones were and how they worked. She looked disappointed at first at the idea that she wasn't really a time traveler, but then she shrugged.

"It's cool anyway" she said.

After that, she glanced outside. It was a clear morning, so they could see everything from the window, and they were about to reach that point where the land ended and the ocean started. She looked fascinated.

He seized the opportunity to lean back against his chair and close his eyes. He was actually about to doze off when she spoke again.

"Did you know that in Paris they speak French?"

His eyes flew open.

"You don't say" he commented ironically.

"No, I mean really!... instead of yes they say _oui, _and instead of thanks they say _merci_"

House smirked.

"Oh, tu parles français" he said.

"What did you say?" she asked, her amusement evident in her eyes.

"I said that you speak French" he repeated.

She giggled. "Yes… _oui_"

A part of him loved being able to entertain her with such simple things.

"Et parles-tu d'autres langues?"

"I didn't get it!"

"I asked if you speak other languages"

She shook her head, and waited for him to say something else. She thought he had a funny voice all the time, but he sounded ever more hilarious when he spoke in other languages.

"Yo hablo español, e falo português muito bem"

She chuckled louder, although she had no idea of what he actually said. "It sounded like you were singing!"

"Did it? What about now? _Fünfhundert fünf und fünfzig millionen fünfhundert fünf und fünfzig tausend fünfhundert fünf und fünfzig"_

She burst into laughter. "Now you just made up sounds!"

"I didn't. It's German" he replied. He didn't really speak German, that was the only thing he could say, but it was enough for her.

He was about to tell her to find something to do on her own because he wanted to rest, but she spoke before him.

"I can say something in another language too!"

"Really? Like what?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She got closer to him.

"Ani Ohevet Otakh" she whispered in his ear.

"Now that's made up" he cracked.

"It's not! Grandma used to say it to me all the time"

He was looking at her with genuine interest now. "And what does it mean?"

"It's Hebrew… it means I love you"

He didn't know if she had just quoted a sentence she used to hear, or if she meant to say it to him. He just knew his heart melted a little bit.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like sleeping anymore, although he was still tired. Cuddy was going to ask to exchange seats with him sooner or later. He could sleep then.

"I have a travel guide of Paris in my backpack" he began "wanna glance through it together?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

Yes, he could definitely rest another time.

* * *

The flight was very punctual, so they arrived at the hotel exactly when they were supposed to. Although for their bodies it was just early evening, they fell asleep as soon as they lay down on their beds. Transcontinental flights could be very tiring. However, while Rachel slept soundly through the entire night, House and Cuddy did wake up after a couple of hours, starving, and more awake than ever.

"So I'm awake, you're awake… quickie?" he suggested smirking.

"My 8-year-old daughter is sleeping in this same room" she pointed out.

"I can be very silent" he said.

They both knew very well that he was joking. He may have liked sex in public, and the fear of being caught was a turn on for him, but definitely not in this case. He liked making her grin, though.

"If you behave, maybe we can find a few moments for us tomorrow" she said, winking at him.

It was all he needed to hear.

He kissed her tenderly on her lips first, then on her temple, before he took her in his arms.

Honestly, they'd been dating for two months and a half and their sex life was pretty amazing. They had sex almost every day, in different ways, and both of them always came away satisfied. However, it had happened a couple of times that they were forced to confront the reality of not being so young anymore. Once, it happened again to him that he couldn't have a proper erection. He wasn't nervous, nor particularly stressed, he was just a little bit more tired than usual, but nothing that a few years ago would have kept him from having sex with her. But that night, his body didn't really want to collaborate.

Something similar happened to her too. One day she really had a busy agenda at work, and she came home pretty late and visibly stressed out. He had all the intentions of making her feel good, in every possible way. Unfortunately, that night it was her body that had a different opinion. No matter how hard and long he worked on her, kissing and touching every single inch of her body, she couldn't get wet enough. Eventually she agreed on using artificial lube, because she did feel like having sex with him, but she couldn't orgasm anyway, in spite of his remarkable resistance. He tried everything, from oral sex to deep penetration, but nothing was enough: she would get close, so very close, but couldn't reach it. After a while, it just became frustrating.

There were also a couple more times when they were both too tired to even think about it.

For all those situations, where for various reasons sex wasn't an option, they would just cuddle. It was a nice way of giving attentions and affection to each other when every other activity wasn't on the list.

Tonight, they did just that. They snuggled up in each other's arm, kissing each other, caressing each other, whispering random things in each other's ear. Talking to her was an activity he had always underestimated when they dated the first time. Of course they would talk, but it was never their first choice. It still wasn't, to be completely honest, but it was on the list. He felt he could talk to her about literally everything. She always felt like she could talk to him about everything, but this time, she knew he always listened to her.

She fell asleep a few minutes earlier than him. Every time it happened, he took his time to just look at her while she was so peaceful, so calm. He fell asleep with her almost every night, the occasions in which he went back to his own apartment were getting more and more sporadic, but he never failed to acknowledge he was one damn lucky bastard after all, for getting such an amazing woman to love him. Twice.

He fell asleep soon after her.

They did find some time for themselves the following day.

In the afternoon, they took advantage of the babysitting service offered by the organizers and attended a couple of presentations. Cuddy was truly interested in the subject, while House just went to get his reward. As a matter of fact, in the middle of the second presentation, he took his phone out of his pocket and texted her, although they were sitting next to each other.

As Cuddy opened it, she realized it was not just a text. He was sexting her. Or sort of.

_I'm horny_

The professional part of her wanted to ignore it. The girlfriend, instead, decided to play along. She unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse, enough for him to see her lacy red bra. Thirty seconds later, she received another text.

_You're gonna drive me crazy, aren't you?_

She smirked.

_I'm gonna do much more than that._

They kept sexting each other, getting a little bit more explicit every time. Needless to say that they didn't last till the end of the presentation. At some point, they discreetly got up and went back to their room.

"Rachel's downstairs until 6. It's 5.30" she managed to whisper while he devoured her mouth with his.

"I'll start taking off your clothes then" he replied.

And he did so.

He didn't even bother to take off his prosthesis, they did just enough foreplay to get her ready, and as soon as she was wet enough, he pushed into her tight core. He pumped in her furiously, muffling her screams with his own mouth and tongue, and they both came pretty quickly. They liked it rough sometimes.

At 6 sharp, they were downstairs to pick up Rachel.

Later that evening, Cuddy was in the bathroom getting ready to go to bed, and thinking about how everything was going totally fine. She had time to spend with her daughter, with House alone, and also to attend the presentations she was interested in. Everything was great. They had planned to have a walk in the city center that evening, but they changed their mind eventually, as they didn't get rid of the jet lag yet and were pretty tired.

She didn't have time to be pleased enough with herself that she heard Rachel screaming "mooooom", as she ran into the bathroom and hugged her, burying her face on her mom's stomach.

"Rach? What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's gross" Rachel muttered, her voice shaking slightly.

"What? What is gross?"

"House took his leg off"

Cuddy sighed, gently patting her daughter's head. She knew this moment would come sooner or later. She was planning to tell House to be careful, but then she had forgotten. A stump wasn't a nice thing to see. She was a doctor, and an adult, and she understood these things, but Rachel probably didn't. She had never seen anything like it before, so rationally her reaction was understandable. She hoped House would understand it too.

"It scared me" Rachel added, squeezing her mom's waist even tighter. "It's so gross"

Cuddy sat on the closed toilet, so that she could look at her in the eyes. She hadn't been crying really, but she was clearly disturbed.

The only thing she could think of to deal with this, was trying to see things from the point of view of an eight-year-old.

"I know it can look gross at a first glance" she admitted softly, taking her daughter's hands "but it's still House's leg"

Rachel looked down.

"And it's not nice to tell people that they look gross, don't you think?" Cuddy added sweetly. She wasn't trying to scold her. She was trying to make her understand.

Rachel didn't say anything at first, but then she got closer to her mom and hugged her again.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, playing with mom's black curls.

Cuddy couldn't help smiling. She had one smart kid.

"You don't have to apologize to _me_"

"Do you think House's mad at me now?"

"I'm sure he's not. He knows you didn't mean to hurt his feelings"

"But can you check?"

Cuddy nodded slowly, kissing her child's cheek. In any other situation, she would have answered no to that question, because she knew Rachel, and she knew she could apologize all by herself. This time however was different. First, it was a very delicate issue. Second, she wasn't sure House was so fine with it.

As she stepped into the bedroom, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the void in front of him. She sat next to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, but he wasn't actually so fine. He just didn't expect such a reaction. They were talking, joking with each other, when at some point he did what he usually did right before lying down in bed, he took his leg off. And suddenly he saw Rachel's face changing from amused to aghast. Then she run away, on the verge of tears. It was the first time he removed his prosthesis in front of her, but he'd never thought it could scare her. She'd watched a surgery after all, and without being grossed out.

"She didn't do that on purpose, you know… she's just a child" Cuddy added, placing a hand on his upper back.

He nodded again. "I know"

And he _did_ know that. He just didn't like being reminded of how disgusting his body was.

"She wants to apologize" she said, before going back to the bathroom where Rachel was waiting.

"Okay"

He decided to sit back against the pillows and cover himself with the sheets, just in case the kid decided his damn stump was too ugly for her.

Rachel, very hesitantly, crawled on the bed next to House and sat on her heels, while Cuddy went back to the bathroom, closing the door. She wanted to give them a bit of privacy in this. They'd always get along so well with each other, this was the first hurdle in their relationship.

House immediately tensed as Rachel put her arms around his neck and hugged him.

"I'm sorry" she whispered.

He didn't know what to say. He patted her back gently with one hand, hoping she would at least back off. He didn't really feel comfortable having her on him right now.

"Can I see it again?" she asked, her head still leaning on his shoulder.

He winced.

"I don't think it's a good idea kid. Maybe another time" he replied.

He was expecting her to ask again, to insist on it. Instead, she just nodded. Then she got up and went lying on her own bed, on the other side of the room.

Once again, he was taken aback by her reaction. He'd wanted her to back off, but not that far away.

He realized he could have done something different. Yes, she'd been insensitive, and yes, he was hurt, but seeing her like that, curled up facing the wall, hurt just a little bit more. She looked so sad. She was just a child after all.

"Kid?" he called.

She turned around to look at him.

"…just a quick look, okay? And no screams" he continued.

She gave him the widest smile. "Really?"

"Yeah. Now come here before I change my mind"

She did so. She run towards him, and hugged him again.

He showed her again his stump. This time she looked at it with less disgust and more curiosity, poking at it and touching it randomly. He didn't really feel completely at ease, it was a pretty weird situation, but it was still better than having her sad and alone the whole night.

When Cuddy left the bathroom, a few minutes later, she found them exactly how she had left them before everything happened, talking and joking with each other, as if nothing had happened.

It looked like they handled their first fight pretty well. She smiled.

* * *

The following day, they spent the morning together, all three of them. Although the temperature was cold, the sun was shining, so they had a nice walk around, starting from the Arc de Triomphe, then all the way down the Champs-Élysées until they reached Place de la Concorde. After that, they crossed Pont Alexandre III, and strolled along the Seine. Rachel kept insisting on climbing the Eiffel Tower, so eventually they agreed on that too. The view, from the 279th meter, was breathtaking.

"When does it sparkle?" Rachel asked.

"At night, kid. Plus, you need to be down there to see it sparkle, don't you think?" House replied.

She nodded.

"So when are we going out at night?" she asked again.

"We will eventually, before going back home. I promise" Cuddy said, giving her daughter a big smile.

After they had lunch in a nice bistro, Cuddy had to get back to the hotel, while House and Rachel decided to stay in the city center.

He had no idea where the places for children were, or if there were any, he just knew he couldn't go to Paris without visiting the Louvre Museum. So, after saying goodbye to Cuddy, he and Rachel took the _metropolitain_ headed to one of the most famous museums in the world.

She complained a bit at first, an art museum was not her ideal destination, but eventually House managed to entertain her anyway. He told her the legend of Cupid and Psyche, of Aphrodite and other ancient Gods, then he made her giggle by pointing out that Mona Lisa's eyes followed her everywhere. He told her something about the French revolution, filling it with a lot of gory details that would catch her attention (although all she could ask while standing in front of Delacroix's masterpiece was "why is she half naked?"). As they crossed the Egyptian section, he also got to tell her something of himself, of the time of his life where he lived in Egypt and developed an interest in archeology.

However, what interested her the most was the Winged Victory of Samothrace, about which, frankly, he knew nothing. She said it was just beautiful. Later, at the souvenir shop, he bought her a small reproduction.

Afterwards, he tried to convince her to visit the D'Orsay Museum as well ("there are paintings made by a guy who cut his own ear off, you don't wanna miss it" he'd said), but he failed. She wanted to see Notre Dame, "where Quasimodo lives", she'd said.

They flipped a coin. She won.

As they arrived in front of the cathedral, however, they found a nice surprise. There was a newlywed couple taking pictures under it.

"I wanna get married here too!" Rachel said enthusiastically.

"I'm not sure they got married in there, you know… plus you're a Jew and this is a Christian church" he pointed out.

"I don't care! Look how cool it is"

"Aren't you a bit young to think about weddings?"

She just shrugged.

Then she turned to look at him, smirking.

"When are you and mom getting married?" she asked.

He frowned.

"What... why do you think we're getting married?"

He was genuinely curious, and also a bit concerned. Had Cuddy mentioned something about it to Rachel? Did she have some kind of plans to become his _wife_?

It sounded so weird. He'd honestly never thought about getting married, not to her, not to anyone else, except that time with Dominika, but that wasn't a real thing anyway. Weddings were the supreme celebration of hypocrisy. Plus, his relationship was going just fine. They were happy, very happy, and there was no need to show it publicly.

"That's the end of every story. When the princess meets prince charming and they fall in love, then they get married. That's how it works" Rachel replied matter-of-factly.

He smiled at her innocence. "We'll see kid. If we ever get married, you'll be the first one to know"

His mind, however, didn't seem so eager to let go of the idea. What would it be like to be Lisa Cuddy's husband?

And why was this idea so appealing?

"Plus, if you marry my mom, then you'll be my dad" Rachel added.

_That_ made him freeze.

"It's… more complicated than that" he replied, tentatively.

The dreaming smile she had on her face suddenly disappeared, and she glanced down, as if her shoes had become the most interesting thing in the world. "You don't wanna be my dad?"

He sighed, feeling a little guilty for making her sad again. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to explain an eight-year-old child that he loved her, so much, just not like a dad? That was a label he didn't like on him, it didn't make him feel comfortable, and it wouldn't have been fair to lie to her about this.

"It's really more complicated, kid" he said eventually, hoping she would drop the subject.

Of course, she didn't.

"Is it because of what happened yesterday?" she asked, still not looking up at him.

His heart wrenched a little in hearing her shaky voice pronouncing those words. No way he'd let her believe this was her fault. If he ever wanted kids, she would be the first one on the list. He just didn't, at the moment. He wouldn't be a good father anyway.

"It's not that!" he said, kneeling down to meet her eyes. She finally looked up. Her eyes were glistening with tears.

"Look… dads are overrated" he continued "friends are much better"

"Do you have a dad?" she asked, sniffling.

He wasn't going to explore the details of his childhood with her, but he could make a short summary.

"I did, yeah… and trust me, there's nothing special about it"

She meditated on this for a few seconds.

"I never had one" she said, shrugging.

"And you don't need one" he said "you have a mom that loves you very much, and that would do everything for you"

He took a deep breath before continuing. "And you have me… I may not be your dad, but I'm here for you anyway"

She cracked a smile. "Are you my friend?"

"To infinity and beyond" he answered in a fake solemn tone.

She giggled, while he took a tissue out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. He waited for her to dry her eyes and blow her nose, then he hugged her. Usually she was the one initiating hugs or kisses or every other affectionate gesture. This time, he deeply wanted her to understand that just because he didn't love her the way she wanted, it didn't mean he didn't love her with all his soul.

"I still think you should marry my mom, you know" she whispered.

He grinned, glad that she was handling this so well. She was really a smart kid.

"I'll think about it"

And, although he thought he didn't want to, he actually found himself considering the thing.

While they were up Notre Dame, seeing the bells and the gargoyles, he thought about the ring he would pick.

When he lay with Cuddy in bed, that night, holding her tight, whispering the details of his day with Rachel in her ear, while she soothingly rubbed his chest, he thought about what her reaction would be to a proposal.

When he fell asleep, he dreamed about the wedding day, the white dress she was wearing, and her beautiful happy smile. There was also a brief appearance of Wilson dressed up in shorts and an Hawaiian shirt, carrying a surf table, but that wasn't the point of the dream.

The following morning he was supposed to give his presentation on hemorrhagic fevers.

"Were you looking for this?" Cuddy asked, a tie hanging from her hand, while he was buttoning his shirt.

"Actually no… I didn't even pack a tie" he said.

"I know. That's why _I_ packed it. We're in Europe, and this is an important conference, I won't let you wear a wrinkled t-shirt"

While she fixed his tie around his neck, he rolled his eyes and thought there was still this bossy, controlling side of her that would never go away. He also thought he loved her anyway. She may be a control freak, but she was _his_ control freak. Once again, he thought that he would totally marry her.

He kept thinking that even during his presentation. She was sitting in the front row, and every time his eyes met hers, he couldn't help thinking that was undeniably a woman he wanted to marry.

After the presentation was over, they went back to their room. Since Rachel was with the babysitter, they had the room all for themselves.

He made love to her slowly, tenderly, kissing her neck, her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids, her forehead, her lips, the tip of her nose, her lips. At first she urged him to go faster, because they had more time than last time but it didn't mean they had _that_ much time, but he ignored her. He wanted to cherish her, worship her, because he loved her more than everything else and he couldn't wait to make her happy for the rest of his life.

It wasn't the most powerful orgasm they ever had, but it was so intense it brought tears to their eyes. Yes, he was definitely going to marry this woman.

That afternoon, he was alone with Rachel again. It was their last afternoon in Paris, and Cuddy had decided to stay at the hotel and enjoy the health spa. He honestly couldn't understand it, but didn't make a big deal out of it. Anyway, he and Rachel had a walk in Mont Martre, had some macarons and hot chocolate as a snack, enjoyed the beautiful view.

"Do you still think I should marry your mom?" he asked her.

They were sitting on a bench overlooking the whole city, they could even see the Eiffel tower far away in the fog, and he still couldn't think of nothing else than marrying Cuddy. He was actually surprised he didn't consider it sooner. It was hypocrite, and false, but it would made her happy. And he wanted nothing else.

"Yes!" Rachel uttered.

"Then we should get her a ring"

She clapped her hands in excitement. "Really?"

"Sure!"

"But why a ring? Why not a shoe… or a watch?"

He scoffed. She'd probably got the shoe idea from Cinderella, but he really couldn't identify the source of the watch. This kid had a vivid imagination.

"Because we're doing this the traditional way" he replied.

They stood up and started looking for a jewelry store. He had decided he was going to propose that same night. He would take her to the Trocadero, the best view of the Eiffel Tower in the whole Paris, and he would propose in the exact same moment when the sparkling lights would start.

"Look at this!" Rachel said at some point, pulling his arm towards the window of a jewelry store. Something had caught her attention. It was a red bracelet, with three pedants: the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the French flag.

"It's nice" he said. "Do you like it?"

"Yes!" she replied.

He grinned. Maybe he could get it for her. In some way, he was officially taking her in his life too, she would also be present during the proposal. He wasn't just going to have a wife. He was going to have a whole family.

He still didn't feel like her father, but maybe they could have a friendship bracelet. Plus, it was going to be her birthday soon.

He took her hand and they went inside.

"Do you speak English?" he asked to the girl behind the counter. He spoke some French, but not enough to hold an entire conversation.

She shook her head slightly, but made a gesture as to ask him to wait. She disappeared behind a door. Thirty seconds later, she appeared again with another girl.

"Hello, my name is Céline. How can I help you?" she asked in a thick French accent.

He got closer.

"I have two women to satisfy… for this one" he began, nodding at Rachel "I would like to see the bracelet you have on display outside"

The little girl squeezed his hand tighter, happily.

"For the other one, I need an engagement ring"

* * *

The lights of the Eiffel Tower from the Trocadero were one of the most beautiful things in the world.

He loved the idea of proposing right here and now. It would leave Cuddy with the best memory, and that would also mean more sex for him. He'd carefully thought about a little speech, nothing too cheesy, then he would go down on one knee. He just hoped the ring he'd chosen would fit her properly.

He'd also planned everything with Rachel. At 8.55 sharp, he would wink at her, and she would ask her mom if she could go check a gift stand "over there". That would leave him and Cuddy alone for the few minutes that required him to propose. At 9 she would say yes and kiss him, and in that precise moment, the sparkling lights on the Tower would start. In his mind everything was perfect.

He was unusually nervous. He'd always thought it was an easy thing to do, proposing, but it didn't really felt like it. It was a big step, it was a commitment. He was nervous, but he wasn't scared, though. Committing to her for the rest of his life was fine. It was more than fine.

It was what he'd always wanted.

When the time came, he winked at Rachel, who did everything according to the plan.

As soon as he was alone with Cuddy, he got closer to her and put an arm around her waist.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he whispered, nuzzling her cheek.

She nodded, not even looking at him.

She looked distant. She looked _nervous_. He'd been so focused on himself and his own plan that he hadn't noticed something was wrong with her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

She turned to look at him.

"There's something I need to say" she stated.

Her words worried him a little bit, but he decided to go ahead with his plan anyway. If her thing was a bad one, which he dreaded, maybe his proposal would make her rethink it, or cheer her up. If it was a good thing, then it could wait a few minutes. Plus, he had calculated the times precisely. He didn't want to screw this up.

"Me too actually" he said.

"I'd like to go first"

"I think it's better if _I_ go first"

"Please, it's important"

"Mine is more"

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Right, because your things are always more important"

"It's not that… it's just…"

"Then let me go first" she interrupted him.

"Look, if you just…"

But he stopped. They were arguing over which one of them should speak first, and they were wasting time. He didn't want to miss this chance. By the end of the night, he wanted to be her fiancé.

_Screw the speech_, he thought.

As quickly as he could, he went down on one knee in front of her and took out the ring from his coat pocket.

"Lisa Cuddy will you marry me?" he asked in one breath, looking at her expectantly.

A couple of tourists turned to look at them.

She was speechless, her eyes wide open, glancing at him first, then at the ring, then back at him.

He waited a second. Then another one.

She still wasn't replying.

He thought that maybe what _she_ wanted to say was really more important.

He thought back to the fact that, earlier that afternoon, she had decided to stay at the hotel health spa instead of having a walk with him. Maybe she wanted to say she'd cheated on him. Or that she was planning on dumping him. Maybe she wanted some time alone. Maybe she was done with him. Maybe she thought she deserved more. Maybe she didn't love him anymore.

He looked away from her, embarrassed. He'd been so naïve in thinking that she could have possibly wanted to marry him. He was going to close the ring box and stand up, when he heard her voice. "Wait"

He looked up at her again.

"Yes, I'll marry you" she said.

He felt his heart swell with joy.

"But…" she continued.

He gave her a puzzled look. He wasn't an expert in marriage proposals, but he was pretty sure there was supposed to be no "but" in the answer. He was going to ask her for an explanation, when he saw her put her hands in her coat pockets searching for something.

"_I _will marry you" she repeated "but, Gregory House,…"

She went down on one knee, right in front of him, a blue box in her hand.

"…Will _you_ marry _me_?"

He felt tears in his eyes, for the happiness, the surprise, the laughter that was going to explode inside of him. _Great minds think alike, _he thought. He really couldn't be with anyone else other than her.

"I guess I could" he managed to say.

They stood up and he immediately pulled her towards him, kissing her deeply, tasting her tears of joy in his mouth.

In that precise moment, the Tower sparkling lights went off.

She broke the kiss to look at them briefly, while he kept staring at her and thought this was the best moment of his life.

She dried her tears with one hand, and gave him the other one, so that he could put the engagement ring on her finger. At that point, he noticed she hadn't gotten him a ring.

"A watch?" he asked, smirking. Then he glanced quickly at Rachel, who was standing behind them giggling, and he rolled his eyes in amusement. So, she'd known everything all along.

"I didn't think a ring would suit you" Cuddy replied, her voice still shaky from the emotions. He gave her his wrist and she clasped the watch on it.

Then, lit by the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, there was a moment in which they just looked at each other, because words couldn't express the love and happiness they felt in that precise moment. He just couldn't live without her. She could, but didn't want to.

It took them thirty years to get to this. Thirty years of passion, of friendship, but also of pain and regrets. It just didn't matter anymore, though. It was all in the past. It took them thirty years to get to this, and they were now ready to move on and start their new life together.

They finally burst out into laughter for the weirdness and beauty of the situation, hugging and kissing each other again, both knowing that they could have done it for the rest of their lives.

Rachel joined them in a big hug. Maybe this wasn't the end of the story, after all. Maybe this was the beginning of a new one.


	16. I'm Yours

_So this is the end of it! I'd like to thank all of you very much for your support throughout the whole thing. When I started writing this story I thought I was going to write it just for myself, just to put on paper all the things that were running through my head. Then I decided to post it here, but really I'd never expected all the interest I received, so thank you all very much. It's really been a great experience. _

_As far as I'm concerned, I admit I have another very short story in my mind at the moment, but I don't know when/if I'm ever going to write it. I could start tomorrow, or next week, or in nine years, who knows!_

_In the meantime, enjoy the epilogue of this one. There's one point I left "open", so each one of you can decide what they would like to happen. _

_Once again, thank you all very much :)_

_*bows and leaves the stage*_

* * *

**Epilogue : I'm Yours**

The first person they gave the big news to was obviously Wilson. They invited him and Jane, his girlfriend, for dinner, the evening after they came back from Paris.

"We're… we're getting married" Cuddy said.

Wilson's jaw literally dropped. He couldn't believe his ears, and as usual he thought this was a joke, but as soon as he realized it wasn't, he got up from his chair and hugged House. He was so happy for him.

Then, the second person who got to know about the wedding was Julia. They invited her for dinner too, although House didn't really like the idea. Predictably, she got more emotional than the two of them. Later on, however, she called House to another room with an excuse, to talk to him.

"If you hurt my sister and my niece again, I'll personally cut off your balls with a paper knife" she whispered.

He nodded. "It won't happen" he said. He always thought that _his_ Cuddy had turned out to be the most similar to Arlene, but he never really got to know Julia very well. Now, he was starting to change his mind.

They shook hands, and went back to the dining room.

In the weeks that followed, House sold his old apartment and moved in with Cuddy for good. However, since they both knew that he needed some time for himself sometimes, they rearranged the basement to turn it into his personal room, where he put his piano, his guitars, and other old stuff. It was a place for him to chill, basically, or at least that was the intention. Reality turned out to be a bit different.

The first who violated his privacy was obviously Rachel, who wanted to play videogames with him. He really didn't mind the idea. Then, one day, she asked him to teach her how to play the piano, and that filled him with more pride and joy than he thought it was possible. They started piano lessons, during the weekends mainly. He had to admit she wasn't bad for a beginner, but he could see she preferred singing. So, sometimes they played together, and sometimes he would accompany her songs, like a live karaoke. In both cases, he enjoyed their time together. After all, during the week, _he was never home_.

Cuddy would also visit him while he was downstairs, but for different purposes: sex, mainly. Although it was still a room of the house, when they were there they felt like they were out of the world. Also, it wasn't as close to Rachel's room as their bedroom, so they could allow a little more noise. Sex in the basement became their little kink, sort of.

They also decided to take one evening just for themselves every week, and joined a tango course, every Wednesday night. House had rolled his eyes at first, when she proposed it, but he actually enjoyed it very much, although he was reluctant to admit it.

In general, everything was going great.

One night, as they were getting ready to go to bed, Cuddy decided it was the right moment to bring up a topic they never really discussed, but that was going to be relevant soon.

"Have you ever thought of converting to Judaism?" she asked.

Even though she couldn't define herself as observant of the religion, she had chosen to raise her daughter as a Jew, so they had traditions that they respected from time to time, and she would have liked House to be part of it. Plus, she had to admit, she would have also liked the wedding to be a religious ceremony.

He looked at her, surprised by her question.

"I'm still an atheist, you know" he replied.

She nodded. She was slightly disappointed, but she could understand it. Being atheist for him was as important as being Jewish was for her. It was part of who they were.

He could see the hint of sadness in her eyes, and he didn't like it.

The morning after, while he was in his office doing nothing, he googled some information on what the conversion to Judaism involved. He wasn't going to do that, ever, not a chance, he thought to himself. He was just curious.

Out of curiosity, he also wrote down a couple of addresses and numbers to call, in case, one day, he decided he wanted to know more. In case, one day, he decided he wanted her to have this part of him too.

They got married in spring. They opted for a civil ceremony, with few intimate friends and colleagues. Wilson was House's best man, but he also walked Cuddy down the "aisle". Julia was Cuddy's maid of honor, but she also walked House down the "aisle". He had to admit, he ended up liking her. Her husband was probably the dullest man on earth, and her kids were the most annoying teens and preteens ever, but she was okay. She was another Cuddy woman to add on the list of people he could stand.

At the wedding reception, they showed off with a tango. Then, they danced to the notes of Unchained Melody.

"You're mine, now" he whispered in her ear as they danced "forever"

She smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

For the honeymoon they went to Bali, this time alone. None of them had ever had so much sex in just one week. On the way back, although it wasn't really "along the way", they stayed two days in Mont Saint Michel, just because he felt like he owed this to her. They had even more sex.

The sex continued even after the honeymoon, although with more restraints.

House, anyway, loved his life, like he never had before. It was so perfect.

He felt like _everything_ was perfect, and he couldn't ask anything more.

Until, one day, he met Michael Dodds. He was a patient of the clinic who complained about chest tightness. House was trying to auscultate his heart and lungs, but the guy kept talking, mainly about his son, who according to him was the brightest kid on heart, the best in school, at sports, at everything. After a few minutes, House just couldn't take it any longer.

"Look, my kid does that too, but you don't hear me bragging about it, so just shut up so I can listen to your chest" he snapped.

The guy did shut up.

And House realized he had defined Rachel _his_ kid.

He'd never done that. She was always _the_ kid, or _Cuddy's_ kid, or just Rachel. In his mind, she was never _his_, until now.

He pondered on that all day long.

That night, he was in bed with Cuddy, they were both reading a book, and he decided to bring up the topic.

"I was wondering…" he started "if something happens to you, who's going to take care of Rach?"

"Julia's her legal guardian at the moment" she replied.

She soon realized his question was not purely out of curiosity.

"…but we can change that, you know" she added with a smile.

He smirked.

"Would you be fine with that? … with leaving her with me?" he asked.

She couldn't believe he was asking. Of course she was fine. She was more than fine. It was probably the best thing for Rachel too.

"I'll call my lawyer tomorrow" she just said, kissing him tenderly, before returning her attention to her book.

So, he was going to be Rachel's legal guardian.

He'd thought he was supposed to be happy at this news, but in fact he wasn't, not really. Yes, it was a good thing, but it didn't make him happy. It was just _fine_.

He thought about it some more.

In case something happened to Cuddy, Rachel was going to be under his guardianship. He would have to provide for her. He would be responsible for her, both emotionally and financially, until her 18th birthday.

After that, legal guardianship expired. Like milk, and eggs. After her 18th birthday, the bond that connected them would be worthless in the eyes of the law.

Moreover, it was something strictly connected to Cuddy. She could decide in any moment to revoke it, or change it. In case they divorced, one day, he would lose Rachel too. Forever.

He realized there was a reason why the idea of legal guardianship didn't make him happy. Legal guardianship was not what he wanted.

"I don't want to be her legal guardian" he stated.

Cuddy turned to look at him with a puzzled look on her face. "You just said two minutes ago that…"

"I want to adopt her"

He said it out loud, for the first time. What he felt, what he wanted, it had a name. Adoption. He wanted to adopt Rachel Cuddy. He wanted her to become Rachel House-Cuddy, or Cuddy-House, or just House. He wanted her to be _his_ kid, officially. She already was, after all.

Cuddy was in shock. She removed her reading glasses and put down the book, to focus all her attentions on him.

"You know what that means, right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes"

"Adoption is… the ultimate commitment" she said "once it's done, you can never undo it. Ever"

"I know"

"You can't even change it…" she continued, her voice starting to shake "for everything else in life, you can always change your mind, in any moment… even marriage can be dissolved…"

He nodded again. "I know"

"… but adoption… adoption is forever"

He could see her eyes glistening with tears.

He put a hand on hers. "I know" he repeated softly.

One single tear rolled down her cheek. "And this is… this is what you want?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes, it is"

He saw her starting to cry, silently at first, then more loudly.

She kissed his lips before burying her head on his shoulder. Her whole body was convulsing with sobs and sighs, and he felt the dampness that her tears created on his t-shirt. He enveloped her in his arms, almost automatically.

He hadn't expected such a reaction. Of course she was going to be happy, maybe she would weep a bit, but this? He wasn't expecting this.

"She's… she's going to be so happy…" she murmured against him, as she tried to steady her breath.

He could barely hear her, but he immediately understood everything.

She wasn't just happy. The tears and the sobs coming from her weren't just for herself. She was happy _for Rachel_.

He sighed, as he kissed the top of her head. The love Cuddy felt for her daughter was so powerful, so intense. And he thought it was going to remain a bit of a mystery to him, forever.

He was wrong.

They told Rachel the news a few days later, although adoption was legally a long process. She didn't say anything particular, she just asked if something was going to change. The answer, of course, was no.

Then, some time later, they were all invited for lunch at Wilson's place on a Sunday. House and Rachel were sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for Cuddy to be ready.

"Go call your mom, kid, ask how much longer it's going to take" he said.

She made a pouty face.

"You go call mom" she said.

"You go"

"You go"

They flipped a coin. House won.

Rachel reluctantly got up from the couch, and went towards the stairs.

"Just so you know dad, next time _I'm_ flipping the coin" she said, before disappearing upstairs.

That was when he first felt it. He was there, frozen, on his couch, and he felt inside him this powerful, unexplainable wave of love.

She'd called him dad. He was her _dad_. And it wasn't just a word said by a baby who was just repeating what she heard, no, this was said with all the meaning in the world. Rachel had called him dad because that was how she felt. The more he repeated the word inside his head, the better he felt. So this was it. This was the unconditional love people talked about, the one that made Cuddy cry of happiness. The one that in that precise moment, made him feel like there was someone out there, walking outside his own body, who wasn't just _a_ part of him, but _the best_ part of him.

His own eyes filled with tears. He wasn't just a random guy anymore. He was Rachel's father now.

As she saw her coming back downstairs with her mom, he stared at them. They were talking, and laughing about something, and suddenly he had an epiphany. He realized he had been missing something all along.

Yes, they were _his_. His wife and his daughter, his family. But that was not the point, that was barely half of it. Still looking at them, he whispered to himself, without even realizing it, the words that were running through his head, the words that more than everything could express his current feelings.

"I'm yours"

Then, he took a deep breath, made sure his eyes were dry, and walked towards them.

THE END


End file.
